


The Dog

by beautifulramblingbrains



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Angst and Romance, Battle, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Fanfiction, Historical References, Kidnapping, Original Character(s), POV Third Person, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tragedy, UbbexOC, Vikings, Violence, deviated plot, ubbe the dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 56,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulramblingbrains/pseuds/beautifulramblingbrains
Summary: Ivar rules Kattegat, pulling the ropes of his brother Ubbe; a now broken man with a shamed title. Sent to English soil to prove his worth, he may be on a path to self-discovery instead."Come with me and I'll tell you." His gaze never wavered, and gradually Avery's breath was coming back to her. His lips quirked up at her uncertainty. "I walked alone with you in the woods once. Can I not be trusted?"Avery fought to stay stern. "I don't trust anybody. Especially men like you.""Good thing we are not men." He flickered between her eyes with a proud grin. "We are Vikings."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! So, this kind of just happened when a friend prompted me to write something Ubbe, and grew. Now I've written a little more on it than what I expected I would - (Of course)  
> This is a deviated path from the show, rated as Explicit for some content and triggers just so I'm covered as I'm not at all that well-versed in this site - (Apologies)  
> I'm a huge lover of fictional history stories and just want to drag everyone down with me.

Snow littered Kattegat, bringing a harsher winter than many had seen for years. Even through the great Hall many kept their furs hugged tightly over their shoulders, breath coiling even with the fires around them stoked, teeth chattering and fingers painfully raw.  

It was a forming stage for the past; of what had been, and the blood spilt and soaked from the earth had turned white like ash and sprinkled down to remind those left of what the great destruction of divide caused. The saying ‘blood on your hands’ turning each villagers hands pink and dry. Some whispering the Gods had witnessed and plagued the new Kingdom to bear the weight of the spoils of war. Kin against Kin literally turning young and old's lips blue.

Ivar would have none of the wretched pity and would flog the nearest if any words lingered by his ear. He drank ale heavily, partly in his own submission to guilt, and to take part in tonight's celebration - the big reveal.  

He ignored pleas for the best part, for they could wait. His reach will not stop in Kattegat, nor rot there. Every Keep around would be raided and claimed, burdened to some great warrior for their time, and show the World who rules.

He _will_ make his parents proud. There was only one aim, ever. But he must be careful not to step on the God’s toes.

“Brother, you will drink with me,” he sloppily said, sipping from a cast cup fit for a King, the world around him swirling somewhat in the busy Hall as they watched the people eat. Hvitserk had sat under furs within reach wordless, and would not speak of the supposed crime. Ivar thought perhaps he still felt loss for his eldest brother’s woman - that strangely brought him unfounded joy.

“Your legs will thin like mine. Great stress on the body under such weather.” Ivar continued, reaching for bread upon the table. He didn’t even receive a look in return and he huffed in irritation, “I’m tired of your pining.”

“There is no problem here.” Hvitserk purposefully turned his head away. “Our brother-”

He was interrupted by Ivar slamming down his mug, spilling it across the table. “He is **no** brother of mine!” His voice echoed through the Hall, the chatter dying as the folk lowered their heads while some swiveled to see the commotion.

Hvitserk tightened his hold on his furs and stood up, his boots scratching the dirt as Ivar seethed to himself, shaking his head at his retreating back.

This was supposed to be a celebration, a new coming on the horizon. The Ragnarsson’s brother’s were together again - the ones left. That is what everybody wanted, was it not? So why did Ivar feel he was fighting continuously against his small act of mercy. Perhaps he shouldn’t have bothered.

Frustrated, Ivar reached for his crutches and quickly followed after Hvitserk. It was the announcement people were waiting for, most following in his wake eagerly to catch a glimpse of the show Ivar had been promising, to show his _creation_...

Through a twisted landscape Ivar’s crutches hindered him, though he dare not say it. Not far from the Hall, a pit had been dug, one that had once been for training purposes, and now only stood for political issues and treason - Ivar’s pride and joy. A sanctuary for all his twisted thoughts on those who would _deny_ him. It was lit up by large torches on poles, the nearest Holding entering onto the snow covered mud.

His most loyal stood around Ivar, and he was already entertained at the Pit master wearing the smallest of garments in such weather, while a man barrier formed with shields held inwards.

Ivar smiled, noticing Hvitserk among the crowd. Of course he wouldn’t miss this. “Let the games begin!” The volume of noise rose with the crowd, the banging of shields and various chants overlapping each other. Ivar watched with glistening eyes as two men stepped through the barrier fixed in leathers and typical helmets, axes held in eager hands. But it was not them who Ivar was most intrigued by. It was the long awaited stint he’d pulled for the pleasure of the people. To know that _he_ was the most loyal to Kattegat beyond all, _and_ most merciful. That he could heed the advice from others and place pleas into consideration where it mattered. All the great things he needed to reign.

Through the Holding’s entrance came a tall man, neck to toe in fastened and strapped leather, buckled over arms. The most significant thing, the crafted helm upon his head covering most of his face, the carvings of gnashing dogs welded like valiant rewards, and just two fixed eyes towards his target.

Unrecognisable, thought Ivar.

The smile on Ivar’s face grew at the air billowing from beneath the prized helmet, likening the man to a bull crazed after being locked up and poked until breaking point. The fact was, that it wasn’t such a far thought from this mans treatment.

“Woof, woof,” Ivar said to no one in his own personal bubble of humour.

The battle of three erupted, two axes clashing upon sword and grunts from strong impact. These men fought for their lives. The wary dance of strength didn’t last long. The helmeted dog didn’t appear to want to play. He slashed one throat so hard it hit bone, throwing blood onto bystanders faces and upon his own, beckoning with a flick of the hand to the other.

Ivar began to laugh. This is what he had wanted to see, knew the capabilities of this crazed dog long before he knew himself. The crowd began to titter out to a mumble, some shifting to get away from the violence, the man barrier bending as they clashed against them. It was the finale.

The lone contender received a cut to the leg and a plunged sword into his stomach without a second's hesitation, being kicked away as The Dog travelled the man barrier, chest heaving, eyeing the next victim, calling upon them, a broken yell.

Ivar clapped, the crowd stunned and most in awe. He watched The Dog disappear back to the Holding and took after him, waving for whoever wanted to continue afterward, two men stepping into the now bloodied ring. But they had all seen what they wanted, experienced the shift in a once known man’s nature.

Ivar’s crutch bashed against the wood as he hobbled into the darkness, a small flame of candle to one side of the large room, a bed with tattered furs slung over. Behind him, guards covered the entrance. But there was no need to fear here.

The Dog sat like stone, back straight, waiting. “A warrior fit for a King,” Ivar said. He got within a good distance to see those familiar blue eyes, thinking that, at one point, he wanted to gouge them out. And now, he saw nothing but personal gain and victory. “The people will love you now. Like you always wanted.” Ivar struggled to sit on a stool in front of him for moment until he regained his balance. “The King’s Dog. The Dog, is what they call you. Has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?” Nothing was said in reply. The air around him was still, heavy, _broken_. “But do not fear, they don’t think badly of you. They just like to see you do well, for once, alongside the King.”

The Dog’s ghostly eyes briefly peered to the floor, but were back up, staring ahead in an instant. The man inside wasn’t _completely_ dead.

“I have a plan for you. And after I may consider you back to the head table in the Hall, to sit beside us. Hvitserk would like that.” The Dog now looked into Ivar’s eyes and neither wavered.

Ivar leaned closer. “You will take some of my men, and you will leave Kattegat, and you will not return until you have many pretty things and land for me.” Ivar smiled with closed lips. “This is your first test. And I would not fail.” He used his crutch to play with in front of him and tilted his head in mock sympathy. “You may remove your helmet now.”

Scarred hands; still bloodied, reached up and pulled the mask away. A scar ran the length over one eye, matching the plenty of others from vicious defiance and, ultimately, defeat. The hair that trailed long, months ago, cut to merely a tuft and scraped back in a bun.

“Ubbe,” Ivar chuckled. “Ubbe, The Dog.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar rules Kattegat, pulling the ropes of his brother Ubbe; a now broken man with a shamed title. Sent to English soil to prove his worth, he may be on a path to self-discovery instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

Ivar surveyed the long ships progress; the loading and docking of the men while Hvitserk stood by his side. In the distance he could see Ubbe with his guards dock without looking back towards him standing on the high hill. Hvitserk still wouldn’t talk, a face like miserable thunder. 

Ivar had had enough. “If it pains you that much, why don’t you go with your beloved dog brother?” Hvitserk looked to him, frowning, and also  _ contemplating _ . “Your sorry face makes my heart bleed.”

A call from down by the dock was the last before the ships were to leave. Hvitserk still hadn’t moved, though fidgeted restlessly. 

“Let Ubbe remember with his time away where he really belongs,” Ivar said, more to himself, but Hvitserk heard him clearly. 

“You’re wrong to mess with our blood.” Finally, the mute boy spoke. “I can’t just stand here.” Ivar’s eyes widened as Hvitserk broke away, down the hill. 

“Hvitserk!” Ivar called, shocked that he’d made such a decision. He hadn’t thought he’d take the bait. 

“I’m going with my dog brother, to remember where we really belong,” Hvitserk stopped, hesitating, turning back to get his point across. “Because right now, I don’t feel it is here for me.”

Ivar seethed, face crumpled, eyes narrowed until Hvitserk docked, taking up only a small distance away from the dog.  _ May the seas take their boat _ , he thought,  _ for I wouldn’t lose sleep over it _ . 

But there he stood in his heavy furs, head hooded, watching until the masts disappeared and his men shivered around him in an unsaid oblige to watch. Ivar didn’t freeze from the cold, for his rage boiled under his skin, spreading like wildfire. But there was one thing that kept him from erupting; kept him from scarring the people around him with his temper. The thought that Ubbe wasn’t the same person he once was, and Hvitserk now had to deal with it. 

Ivar the Boneless will triumph, even from countries apart.

Ivar smirked from beneath the darkness of his hood.

* * *

Avery knelt in her dark green dress, white pinafore stark against the material and still tied around her waist, pressing her hands together while whispering the lord's prayer beneath her breath. She stared into the flame of the candle for a long time. “Thank you for this sanctuary. Thank you for blessing us with time for recovery and healing.” After she’d finished, the room was still as quiet as it was before, not a sound, the room no bigger than a crypt if she thought about it long enough. It’s high windows of the Keep only blessing one the size and width of her hand high above her head, unreachable, making the darkness ever more imposing.

In her bed lay sleeping children, the eldest no older than eleven. They weren’t hers and they weren’t related. They were victims, all of them; victims of continuous war. They had all lost their families and been sent to various places, travelling off the back of the Lord. They all ended up here, put together like broken puzzle pieces and glued to fit. Avery was chosen and commanded to take care of them, and that she did, being the oldest of all the girls; blushing at the use of Lady used idly and comically from her masters because of her efforts. 

As much as it was a sanctuary, it played a part in keeping her stashed away with a future unknown. She supposed that is what she prayed to God for in her underlying message of thanks; for answers asking if this were really it; the life she would now lead until she became nothing more than a spinster, or, perhaps a nun.

Avery clamped her eyes closed and banished the thought. When they opened they felt clearer. Poisonous thoughts shouldn’t linger on the mind, for when they fell asleep it would curdle their brain and seep into their everyday life - so they say. And girls young and scorned who kept secrets were the most poisonous of all. 

But Avery had never spilled her thoughts on the future to anyone. And sometimes at night she would dream her blood didn’t run red but black, spilling out like oil, drowning the children beside her in their sleep. And many times she woke with a fright. 

Remembering the dreams, Avery pulled her pinafore off, blew out the candle and crept in the dark to get in beside the youngest, the barest of cloth to cover her between the four of them. She must have been in a state of sleep and consciousness because she could hear so vividly a conversation of worries one of the priests brought to Benedict Biscop; the head of the Keep, a strictly religious and stern man in constant robes and situated in a fine room with a long table that Avery wasn’t allowed to enter. 

Though he was stern, he found happiness in that he’d rescued some orphaned children and resided them with God’s people and the church’s men, and showed it regularly with lavish meals sent to them along with small parcels of delicate materials. 

Though, it wasn’t the most appropriate place for young girls of any age to grow up, and there was always something wrong with the way religious men watched them. Perhaps Avery’s age and presence was the only thing that kept them safe. 

“Stop,” Avery told her over-thinking mind. What ludacris thoughts. But the memory of the priest and his worries, along with the word ‘raids’ specifically, slowly seeped its way back in. And when she finally fell asleep, she dreamt of the oil catching fire.

* * *

A loud crash had Avery frightfully jumping awake. She put a hand to her chest and stared towards the door, concentrating for a moment until her vision blurred. One of the young ones sighed next to her and turned over which drew her attention away - until she heard it again.

Letting her feet down to the cold stone, she found her leather boots and slipped her feet in, tiptoeing towards the door. It opened with a harsh creak and she froze on the spot, looking down the empty hall towards the twisting stairs at the far end. 

She glanced back to the youngsters still asleep, took her cloak from a stool and put it on her shoulders, heading down the hall. Footsteps, like someone sprinting echoed from the stairway, scratchy and far away. There was a voice, a low voice.

Avery crept closer, almost silently. She took the torch from the adjacent wall and went to the top of the steps, treading each one carefully. It only lead down to another floor, one on level with the Keep’s wall, and a lengthy hallway until she would be near Benedict Biscop’s living quarters. It was usually warmer down here, for her room was high, and they always had better fires and people to tend them regularly. But there was a weird chill, it breezed down from the quarters - the same one’s Avery headed to.

“Hello?” she said in the smallest whisper, searching ahead with the torch. “Is there somebody there?” She kept herself to the wall, hand out in front to keep steady until she got to the two-way corner which split the hall. She stopped and peered round it, seeing the door to Benedict Biscop’s quarters was open. 

“Father Benedict?” Usually there was always a guard here. Usually the door remained locked and Avery had certainly never seen inside. But she found herself in the doorway, looking at the thrown sheets from the bed now littered with items, the overturned candle still burning. The room had been torn apart and left. 

Further in, until she got close enough to stub the abandoned candle, she crouched low and licked her thumb and forefinger, dousing the flame. She then put it back next to the overly large bed and took a step back. 

Something cracked under her heel. 

She waved the torch down by her feet and got low again. Recognition, the thing from her nightmares - blood that looked black on the stone of the floor. A tooth, now splintered after she stood on it. “Lord, have mercy.” She stood and walked backwards, her chest heaving, the need to vomit rising. A smell became distinct, an unearthly metallic - death. 

Avery bumped into something solid behind her and she turned her head over her shoulder half expecting for it to be the wall. 

But it weren’t. And oh how she wished it was. 

A bald man sheen in sweat and blood slapped across his face, tattoos etched like demonic callings weaving between his eyes, tilted his head. It made it harder to focus, to view him as even human. Avery felt her lungs seize up and the scream about to rip from her throat when he flung himself forward, grabbing her mouth, and pushing her back towards the bed. She dropped the torch when she buckled backwards, finally screaming out but it wasn’t long enough, for he had her pinned and was ripping at her skirt.

“Get off of me!” She beat him, tried ferociously to dig her nails into his face while simultaneously fighting her clothes back down. For only a brief moment, screams from the past echoed behind her eyes, seeing the flames in the village, finding her parents, their blood on her hands. It was happening. It was all happening again...

His strength felt inhuman, he smelt like something long dead, and he was speaking in a weird language she didn’t understand. He slapped her for her struggling efforts, snapping her head from side to side until she saw stars and felt the world draining away. Avery’s eyes danced, heavy, the room buzzing. In her daze she saw the three children in the doorway, rubbing their eyes, the eldest coming up behind the demon on top of her.

Reality shot back when what she was seeing was real. The eldest jumped upon the demons back and made him move just enough for Avery to gather herself and get towards the pillows. He was shouting loudly now, having flung the eldest, Eda, to the ground.

There was something; a moment when he looked at Avery that she saw every intention. When he turned back to Eda, horrified Eda pleading with an extended arm, Avery slipped from the bed while he was too busy pulling Eda from the floor. She found the torch, the thinned, spike-like end, and crept towards him. The children were screaming, Avery’s face was throbbing. She lifted it behind her head, over her right shoulder, baring her teeth and willing her might, and put all the force she could gather into bringing it down into the fleshiest piece of his neck.

It didn’t work as well as she had initially thought, but enough so that he let Eda go and that he had to pull it out of his skin. Avery and the children ran from the room, and she shut it behind her, pushing the little ones ahead, guiding them towards an exterior door that lead to the walkway of the wall where she could finally get a glimpse of what was happening beyond. 

They busted through and were met with a contemporary description of Hell. The battle of the church’s men against Heathrens. Cries called out around them, the sounds of metal clashing, arrows zipping. Avery ordered the children to crouch by the brow of wall while she got her thoughts straight. The only logical place she knew to go was the cellar of the kitchen. Their quarters were now compromised. Outside was too dangerous...

She dragged them back inside, carolling them down the steps as Benedict’s door was thrown open and an eerie shadow cast upon the wall. Her feet worked so fast, holding the back of the nightgown of the smallest as they fled for their lives. Down and down they went, three floors, passing corridors that seemed more perilous than theirs as the screams got louder. They passed figures battling, not sparing them a glance and finally reached the bottom, the fire was still roaring, logs spilled across the floor. Avery found the hatch under a rug and flung it open, her lungs heaving. The wooden stairs were steep and it was cold, but the children didn’t argue. Once inside, she grabbed Eda’s shoulders. “Stay here.”

“Avery! Don’t go. Don’t leave us,” Eda said. The youngest was sniffling into her sleeve.

“Get behind something and don’t come out until I come back. I’m going to look for a way out. I can’t do that with Kendra, she’s too small, and she needs you. Somebody needs to hide the hatch.” 

It was irony. They knew of the room from when they would steal food, the old cook that worked here showing it to them in the first place. And now it would save their lives.

Eda nodded slowly, tears brimming her eyes. “Okay.”

“If I don’t-” 

“No, Avery! Don’t!” Eda interrupted her, but she continued anyway.

“If I don’t, wait a day and follow the path towards the South. Keep heading south.” Avery didn’t know exactly why, and didn’t believe anyone was truly safe, but directions and commands were sometimes the only thing people had left apart from their faith in God. She briefly touched the rosary around her neck, hidden under her clothes.

There wasn’t time for goodbyes and Avery ruffled her hair, then took off up the steps. The hatch closed heavily, the last thing she saw being three pairs of frightened eyes. She pulled the rug over, hoping they were strong enough together to lift it. They had to be. On the way out, a cleaver was still stuck into pork, and Avery took it. Honestly, she wasn’t a warrior, but there was a difference between warriors and survivors. Survivors being far more dangerous. 

Hell ravaged outside and fear momentarily crept back in. The screams and cries were enough to instill fear even in the bravest. The kitchen lead to a small area with chickens scuttling about by her feet, a small gate into the courtyard. Avery wrapped her cloak around her and pulled up the hood, shadowing herself in the darkness of the Keep. It felt like time passed slowly, and her gut kept telling her to stay where she was and not move. But the stables weren’t far, hoping that when she got there she wasn’t the only person with the same thought. Perhaps find some church men struggling with an escape. 

The air around her grew quiet. Avery took it as a sign and snuck out, past holdings, the storehouse, and carts left idle. She darted between each one, further towards the Keep’s large gate and where the stables would be. But the closer she got the more she lost her faith. They were ransacked and empty, every horse Benedict Biscop held here taken. Those were his most treasured. The others were kept outside the walls in the surrounding village, not far, but not protected and cared for. 

She checked anyway to find hay and horse manure, then went to the arching iron gates splayed open for all to enter and leave, looking down the hill and across the land. The village surrounding laid in ruins, burning, some with people still rummaging, others flinging women and children to the ground. Avery could see the glint of the moon on the river and that would be her chosen path. Behind her stood the Keep she’d known for a year presented as a Headstone. 

Catching her breath, Avery wiped at the blood from her mouth where the monster had slapped her. Overall, she was fine considering what might have happened. 

“S túlka .”

That thick accented language burned her ears. Avery turned to see another burly demon standing loosely, sword in hand, helm in the other against his hip. He was covered in a similar grime, chest still heaving from his murderous efforts.

“Stay away from me!” Automatically she held the cleaver up towards him. “I am not a...afraid…” she suddenly lost her voice, watching great flames beginning to lick out of the windows in the top tower of the Keep, furthest away - where her and the children would have been sleeping. “Oh my-” she bolted towards the courtyard. From out of the shadows came the bald, tattooed man from before, blood still wet, but not looking any less threatening, blocking her way. Two of them stood between her and the children now locked in the cellar. “I am not a threat to you. Just let me go,” she pleaded.

The two spoke briefly. Then another voice rose up behind her and she swiveled between them all, still holding the cleaver up. There was a strong smell, something unnatural burning in the air. The three got closer, more men began to appear; happy, excited, thrilled with the carnage. Eventually her back hit the wall of the arching Keep entrance as they closed in from both sides leaving her nowhere to go. The first one came towards her quickly and she slashed at him to no avail. He knocked the cleaver away and grabbed her only weapon, lobbing it somewhere over his shoulder, and heavy handedly grabbed her neck, forcing Avery to walk. 

But it was the wrong way. And the children…

She didn’t care what would happen to her. 

She pushed with all her might and tried to run, only for her hood and hair to be grabbed and yanked back. Avery kicked, lashed out by violently shifting her weight. 

A thick blackness billowed into the air above the Keep and desperation sunk in. “You don’t understand! There are only children in there! They don’t know to run! Let me tell them! Let me-” They gagged her, tying rope around her wrists. She was still screaming into the dusty cloth in her mouth, catching a glimpse of the monster from Benedict Biscop’s room showing the wound she gave him. They smiled and joked in their strange language, the quietest being the one who held her, guiding her casually away from the Keep as it creaked and groaned, while she shrieked with it hysterically. 

They all didn’t seem to mind.

Avery still fought as she was tied to a horse to walk behind it, pulling back even though it was pointless. 

The very top tier made an awful rumbling noise, part crumbling away… and that smell… 

Avery watched as the tower began to lean, right over the kitchen, right where she had led them. It buckled, like her knees, and ploughed down into the building below. She lost all her senses, letting the darkness swallow her, just a secondary pain from her wrists as they jolted in her collapse. Then... nothing.

She will burn in Hell.

* * *

Avery woke to the sound of a rhythmic wheel turning, the rumbling beneath her head bouncing it off of wooden planks. It was bright daylight, blue skies, cloudless as she stared up. Her eyes felt heavy, body like lead, and as she tried to raise her hand her wrists were still bound, mouth gagged. Everything came rushing back.

Sitting up the world spun. She was being watched by an old man on the head of the cart, turned right around, legs in the back with whatever bounty they’d stolen, and her. Behind them trailed a line of horses. They were walking slowly, but timely, and peacefully. 

Avery’s eyes narrowed at the men that dragged her from her home. They stared at her, blankly and unabashedly. Trying to appear fierce didn’t work. They were eating too, sharing across to each other. Avery didn’t know where or how far they’d come. It was just open land for miles, greenery, and severely cold. She only realised she was shivering when she automatically tried to pull her cloak further around her, finding it hard work with tied wrists. 

The cart stopped suddenly, almost sending her over the back. They left her for the best part, idling themselves with building a camp. It might have been an hour or so that she watched until she was approached. They said something foreign to her, a command. When Avery didn’t move, they resort to grabbing her. Men laughed while she was hauled over one of their shoulders, kicking and hitting out, her yell muffled. She was all but thrown into a put-up tent and she scrambled right back, warily eyeing Benedict Biscop’s room demon.

Avery’s mind raced. He was going to try again, his pants were already half undone and nobody seemed to care to stop him. His wound had been covered. She owed him, that must be going through his mind, and it must have been the reason why she was still alive.

He yanked her ankles, pulled her down, removed her ragged mouthpiece and tugged her mouth to his, a disgusted sensation causing her to cringe, pulling constantly away. He said something, pinning her with his body, travelling down her neck, smothering her. With hands bound they were useless. She was going to die either way. She lifted her head and chomped down into his cheek as hard as she could until her teeth hurt, unrelenting to him shouting out some curse she didn’t understand. He rose up on his knees, seeing blood through his fingers; blood she had caused  _ again _ . But before he lashed out this time, she kneed him, wiggled away, clambered up and ran from the tent. 

Outside people laughed like it was some hilarious joke, the entertainment after a successful raid - and that wasn’t far from the truth. The demon came out from the shadows, absolutely furious, spitting onto the grass. Avery pleaded to all the amused faces, panicking, dizzy, lost. They all looked small and as if they couldn’t stand up to this unrelenting demon or as if they wouldn’t want to. They’d rather watch her get torn to shreds - except one. One who didn’t laugh, one who was polishing his helm while seated on a log doing his best to ignore the commotion. The crowd of people found her too amusing to stop and she ran to him and halted. 

“Please…”

The quiet one stood up, frowning, looking at the blood by her mouth then to the unamused demon storming up behind her.  

_ He’s big enough _ , she thought. And just when the demon reached for her, she slipped behind the quiet one, a curious expression gracing his face. 

They made a brief exchange, the quiet one suddenly squaring his stance, the conversation getting a little heated until the demon threw his hands up exasperated and strode off. Then he merely rolled out his shoulders and sat, continuing to polish his helm, two feral dogs as symbols on each side. 

Avery caught her breath, the wind whipping her cloak out behind her while watching the crowd disperse. Putting one foot sneakily behind the other, she backed up, looking unsuccessfully for a treeline or cover. There was nothing. But it was better than staying put. 

“Think very carefully,  stúlka ,” he finally spoke to her, not gracing her a glance. “I will not care for you a second time.” He spat into his rag, smoothing it across the snarl of one of the dogs.

“I knew you understood me! I knew it,” her voice only squeaked from the fear still rattling her bones. “To Hell with you!” Avery turned, bolting across the grass. 

What she didn’t see was Ubbe The Dog stand, pull back his arm and lob his helm directly at her head. Watching her tumble to the ground in a heap, he sat down back on his log, eventually joined by Hvitserk casually strolling over. “We move on tomorrow at first light. West,” Ubbe instructed, taking the ale Hvitserk offered - tasting better stolen.

Hvitserk peered to the girl out cold on the field. “We take slaves?”

“She stabbed Hendrick."

It was enough for Hvitserk, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

Ubbe downed his drink, throwing the cup out to the field. “Bring out our holy man Benedict.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, subscribing and all that jazz. It means a lot. I hope you enjoy this incredibly slowly, burning, painful death of bliss that is Vikings.

It was dusk when Avery managed to come to, hearing heavy laughter and jest. Her head rolled and she groaned with pain; a shock of it travelling through the back of her head. Everything was blurry and far away, the images of people morphing, the fires from the camps swirling. She pulled her arms to find them tied behind her and to the wheel of the cart that had her propped up. Her ankles were also bound, and the dusty rag back in her mouth. Panic and claustrophobia set in quickly and she began struggling as much as the pain would allow, whimpering to herself, but stopped when she heard a familiar voice.

"Damn you, heathens! There is one God and he will welcome me in his arms. There is no place for you. He's seen the massacre of his people and he will be vengeful!"

Benedict Biscop slurred his words, strung up by his arms in his long, and now dirtied nightwear. It was a mocking cross, and in front was a crowd of men drinking and throwing items, taunting him. Benedict's room demon was on his feet pacing, hands out, speaking in his strange language - Avery guessed some story or joke to do with Benedict and his Christianity.

There was nothing she could do, defeated at the very least as the cold from the ground where she sat seeped into her spine. A tear slipped her cheek down into the rag, and she let her head fall back until her eyes grew heavy, the images of the camp nothing more than background.

* * *

By early the next morning, the sun barely making its presence, Avery was jolted awake. Now she felt weak, hungry, and extremely nauseous. The old man who watched her before in the cart untied her wrists and picked her up, putting her in the back of it, her legs hanging off the tailend.

Benedict was being led over to her by rope, his head rolling, pale, stumbling to keep up. The shame they cast upon him was inhumane. She dropped her eyes when they stripped him of all his clothing; his naked, pot-bellied form and privates out for all to see in such cold weather. They left his beloved cross, and it reminded Avery of hers hidden beneath her dress. She touched it and prayed silently in her mind as they tied the end of the rope to the back of the cart nearest to her.

There was a sound of a whip and the cart pulled off, and Benedict all but wailed. She must have watched for mere hours as he tumbled and fell, stood and then dragged endlessly. The sun blazed high, her own head rolling with the rhythm of every rock or bump the cart hit.

Horse hooves came up beside her, the one she named demon settling into a lazy pace. One hand guided the reign, and she could see the long braid of hair swinging behind his mostly close-shaved head. He looked amused for the most part, the teeth marks on his cheek and patch over his shoulder her only relief from his confident stare.

"You will be next," he said finally. Avery should have known they would be fluent in the countries they invade for mere advantage. "Will be a better view. You should thank him for keeping you covered this far."

Avery turned her head away, her stomach twisting in either hunger or sickness, she couldn't tell anymore.

"I wait for it. You will do us a great favour, bringing morale to our plight." He clicked his tongue and motioned to her mouth piece, leaning over towards her. She let him tug it down, fine lines from the cloth cutting across her cheeks. "What do your beloved Christian men call you?"

Avery tugged on the ties around her wrists, tangling her fingers in the knot. "My name is Avery. And it is what my parents called me. My parents who are dead because of people like you."

"Where are you from?"

She didn't trust him and his fake, friendly smile. The eyes of others were on her, watching their interaction. "The East."

"Ah," he cooed. "Just wondering if I might have met them."

Avery let it go, knowing he was mocking her. "But my home doesn't exist anymore. So it doesn't matter." She frowned at him, sticking her nose up. "There is nothing there for you to raid."

He barked a laugh, his horse's head lifting up at the sound. "I like you. And it will be my pleasure to take your clothes off when the time comes." He was distracted by others trotting up next to him; the quiet one, and two others. They were looking far ahead, behind her. She followed their eye-line towards a small river and treeline on the other side.

The pace of the group picked up and it wasn't long until they found the shallowest part to cross, laughing at Benedict tripping and half drowning, eventually dragged from the water spluttering. The water almost reached her feet. If her ankles weren't tied she would have rolled and hoped to be washed downstream, perhaps a chance to run. But fate gave her otherwise.

With the small break, Benedict rose up from his knees catching his breath and noticing Avery perched on the cart. He fumbled towards her, his teeth chattering from the cold, and he none-too-gently grabbed her legs. Be it his frozen fingers or despair, they hurt, and she couldn't push him away. "Avery, Avery, Avery, you are alive!"

"Yes, father Benedict." She chanced a look around her to nobody noticing their interaction; too busy cleaning in the river and eating. "They are going to kill us." Her voice almost warbled, but she managed the strength from somewhere.

"You have to help me." His teeth kept chattering, an awful sound, and his skin glistened. "Do you know where they take us? Do you have food?" His hold tightened.

"Father Benedict, please," she grimaced, "you're hurting me."

His jowls swung as he anxiously peered around him. "We need a plan. You must find out as much as you can... A town or village we must come across soon..." he spoke crazily, mostly to himself in incoherent mumblings between shivering.

Avery bit back tears from his desperation. "I am next, they say… After you. Father, please, let go." He grabbed the front of her cloak and she couldn't back away with her hands still tied around her back. "Father Benedict!"

"I can't feel my feet."

"I'll pray for you. But Father-" She couldn't finish, for Benedict was shoved to the ground, the quiet one holding a knife towards her. Avery closed her eyes, but he only roughly cut the ties around her ankles, then forced her to turn around and slit the ropes from her wrists too. Once free, she rubbed them. "Thank-"

"Wood," he all but barked, pulling her down, pushing her forward. "Wood, now."

"Wood? You want me to collect wood? For the fire?" Her mind was racing and she got dizzy once she was on her feet, the sudden urge to piss overwhelming. Her stomach growled and she was mostly jogging ahead of his pace for him not to get too close. When she hesitated at the treeline, he pushed her again and she quickly got down to grab branches and sticks.

He relieved himself by a tree with his back to her and she stumbled upon the point of a specific branch, licking her lips while running a thumb over it. But did she dare to act out again? She bundled it into her arms when she heard him step towards her, the brush under his foot snapping.

Avery felt like a rodent; fumbling hands against the damp earth, searching and piling every little piece of wood into the crook of her arm. He huffed when she dropped some. Her anxiety launched into overdrive and she began shaking, sparing a nervous glance. She told herself that this was her only chance. If she waited any longer, Benedict would surely die, and then she would be next and she would rather spare herself the shame.

"Hurry," he mumbled, eyes searching out towards the camp being erected by the river. She tried to keep up to speed, but her fingers gradually became stiff and raw. She consciously squeezed her thighs together at the fullness of her bladder, distracting herself with the thought of the sharp branch in the crook of her arm. "Now, stúlka." He grabbed the back of her clothes, talking in his language, dragging her towards a new tree.

Avery's arms were full, and when he signalled with a grunt and nod of his head to head back, she threw the lot, apart from the one she'd minded, straight at him, dirt and leaves puffing out into the air.

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, the shrubbery catching her dress, whipping her ankles, head throbbing, heart pounding. She felt the strength of his hand on her arm and half turned, swinging the branch, tripping and crashing to the ground. Taking him with her halfway down.

He would surely kill her now.

But the image in her mind wasn't the one she saw when she finally stopped struggling. He was leaning over her, his hand covering her scream and weighed her down by a knee to her stomach. There was no anger or rage, no clenched teeth or furrowed brow. He had the audacity to grin at her and it almost appeared as though he had enjoyed their little chase. His hand left her mouth, a chesty chuckle leaving her wide-eyed upon the ground, breathing quickly.

"Feral," he said, obviously amused by her. "A word my father taught me of desperate and scared animals." He leant closer, pronouncing the words thickly in his accent. "You are feral."

"Monsters!" she growled back at him, trying her best to be confident while sprawled so openly in front of him. "Murderers. Marauders. Thieves. Damned!" He let her go with the brightest smile and stood up. Avery turned onto her front and wobbled, trying to stand as the pain in her head felt like it would split at any moment.

He kicked the branch back towards her. Hesitating at first, Avery watched him warily, then she took it, holding it up defensively, new found determination etching her face.

"You kill me, you can go." He was still laughing at her. "But if you can't, there is trouble, huh?" His brow raised up over the eye with the scar, pouting at her mockingly.

He was an estranged man with a war torn appearance, Avery noticed. Large hands with scarred and scabbed knuckles, arms defined and tight against the undercloth of his leathers presenting a force not to be reckoned with.

"There is nobody here to see." He snapped her out of her thoughts. "Your time is now, stúlka."

Avery still held the stick up towards him. "You understood me and left the children!"

"If it was our children, would you go back and save them?"

"We would-"

"Lies," he bit back. "When you tell yourself so many lies you start to believe them." She was staring down her nose at him, arms shaking. "Why don't you put the stick down. You could take somebody's eye out with it."

"I'd rather die than go back to your pathetic camp and watch you torture an old man."

"You come back willingly or dragged." He shrugged, boredly peering behind him. "I'm busy and have things to do. Become too much work and you will be lead like your holy man tomorrow."

"I'm as dead as he is." But her voice wasn't as strong, and he took the opportunity to reach out, pushing the tip of the stick down, letting it drop to the floor. "I have seen it," she said, her voice far away; ethereal. "In my dreams I have seen my death, when my blood runs black and it drowns the people around me."

"And I dream of hot food, I wonder what it tries to tell me?" He let his arms out wide and motioned back to the camp. "It means I'm hungry and I know food is waiting. Are you hungry? You must be."

"It's prolonging fate."

"You already know how you die, as you say. Maybe live a little until then?" His eyes were piercing blue, wide and absorbing everything. A sense of intelligence behind them, humour, and a hint he'd seen some awful things in his time; made some changing decisions from the line pinching between his brows.

Avery leaned from foot to foot in contemplation. He'd saved her before. She didn't feel safe, but she didn't think that he was about to hurt her either. She was nothing but a nuisance to him, just another one of their slaves. "Can I have some privacy?"

He looked at her hands pinching the fabric near her stomach and guessed, nodding his head. "Run again, I  _will_  kill you."

And that, she knew, he meant.

* * *

Hendrick smacked his lips together after a long drink, Hvitserk still eating from a bowl as the fire crackled before them. Ubbe was silent, entranced by the flames. The old man from the cart walked before them and dropped logs onto the fire sending flickers of burning ash dancing into the air.

"What drives us West?" Hvitserk began. He hadn't heard much of the plan before leaving, nor asked many questions. He was just becoming used to the withered version of his older brother. But he knew for certain he couldn't stand to stay back with Ivar this time and be consumed by what ifs.

Hendrick was happy to oblige. He was a good friend of Ivar, a true warrior, sent to keep a watchful eye with the pretense of running the onslaught of raids alongside Ubbe. Though, truly it was Ubbe's party - a party and chance to rebuild trust. Hendrick was impulsive, unmerciful, and at many times unpredictable. "To avoid detection. An anonymous path of confusion. Isn't that right, dog?" It seemed Hendrick was smart too.

Ubbe snapped from the trance and sipped the drink in his hands. "Something like that. There is a Keep past the forest. I will go alone or accompanied." He threw his cup down and stood up, the sound of his leathers shifting as he moved.

Hvitserk stood up too after a moment of not wanting to leave his food and followed out after him. Hendrick saw it as an opportunity.

Ubbe walked with purpose, his sights only set ahead with the two flanking him. "On foot. Quiet," he commanded, stepping up into a jog at the treeline.

Hvitserk smiled.

* * *

Benedict Biscop was tied up a few feet from Avery, and in the movement from around the camp, he took the opportunity to crawl over to her. He frightened her in his suddenness and the rambunctious way he heaved his large form across the ground desperately. He'd been redressed in a drab cloth already dirtied, but slight protection from the elements.

"Don't be fooled with trickery," he whispered, stiffly setting down beside her to watch out for anyone listening, his breath lost with the effort. "First chance you have, you must leave a warning or alert the surrounding villages. Word will soon get to the King. Only he will save the innocent." He shivered uncontrollably. "I am as much dead as I am alive. But as you say, you are next. No mercy for heathens. No forgiveness..."

"We talk of forgiveness." Avery looked at him to guide her with some knowledge of the Lord for it not to be telling in his eyes, nor comforting her with verses. He merely frowned.

"There is no forgiveness to be had," he finally said. With his bound hands like hers, he showed the cross from his neck formally clasped between them. "I won't get far. You-"

"I run, they kill me," she shook her head, thinking of the conversation she had earlier. Benedict didn't listen and shuffled by her feet, using the cross to begin working against the thread, splintering it and loosening it enough to pull her ankles free.

"I've figured out where we are and where they intend to head to next. Through the wood is a small Keep with a surrounding village called Carham," he rambled on hastily, "I know the priest. It has high walls and they won't get in unless they are permitted. His name is Father Murdoch, he keeps pigeons on the roof with the pier." He breathed in shakily, his teeth bouncing together, and every now and then he would grimace in pain.

"Send a warning," he growled, snapping the ties around her wrist. "Go, now!" He pushed her a little, and with the prompt she crouched, slipping to the back of the cart. "Now, child. Don't come back for me."

"Come with me?"

Benedict pointed to his blackened feet. "I'm not going anywhere." And then he held out the cross to her. "It will help you more than me. It's worth its weight, and will do you good when you come out of the other side of this." When Avery took it, she could feel the burden along with it. "Pray, for us both."

With new defiance, Avery fought the tears and nodded, slipping into the shadows and towards the woods.

* * *

"We'll lose half the men from arrows before we even make it in there," growled Hendrick, crouched like Ubbe and Hvitserk by a hut with sleeping occupants. There was lights beaming down onto their faces from the wall, the small glimpse of a lone soldier guarding it. The main gate was up and hadn't come down since they had arrived. "This is a daylight attack. Is it worth-"

"You're not scared, are you, fierce Hendrick?" Ubbe mocked him, eyes still dead-ahead on the prize.

Hvitserk snickered and settled. "I agree with Hendrick though, brother. With more men and resources it's possible, but we're limited. We can come back or choose somewhere else. The world is our oyster."

"Somewhere else is two days away with our people and newly acquired possessions," Ubbe's tone deepened in annoyance, somehow managing to resist a curse.

After months of mental abuse on failure and betrayal, Ubbe had linked the emotions to his mission. Giving up before even trying wasn't an option. He had nothing if he couldn't take his place back on the High table with his brothers - even if that meant sitting with those who had done him such a great injustice. In his new mindframe, it was that or death. And at one point, he was sure he had almost enough courage to go through with it. But he'd lost enough dignity and honour already.

"You're blinded with your cause," Hendrick mumbled. He wasn't expecting for Ubbe to grab the front of his leathers and pull him mere inches from his face.

"Of course I am. I say, I do. You knew the reasons before we left and if it doesn't work for you, feel free to leave," he growled.

"He doesn't mean that," Hvitserk tried.

"Things are different now." Ubbe turned to him with a stern expression, his words meaning more without an explanation. "And you don't speak for me."

"I am here to help you. I want to help you."

Ubbe let his eyes drop up and down his younger brother, a look of distaste, and mostly due to uncertainty. "You walked away once before."

"And now I am here," Hvitserk defended himself, neglecting the exchange Hendrick made between them. "And now more aware of Ivar's capabilities. What he did-"

"Save it," he spat out, "It's in the past."

Still crouched, Hvitserk sighed and peered down to the ground. "I'm  _trying_  to apologise."

"We have a fledgling!" Hendrick suddenly tensed and grabbed Ubbe's shoulder, motioning with a hand towards movement between the shadows of the thirty or so huts to their left.

It was a girl from the billowing skirt, and Ubbe squinted just as she passed through a patch of lighting. The stumbling run and long hair, he knew who it was.

"It's the wild one," Hendrick pointed out what Ubbe thought. "The savage Christian girl. Running to her Christian friends. 'Please, somebody help me from the heathen Vikings,'" he mocked. "You should have let me deal with her."

But it only gave Ubbe an idea. "Go back and gather some men. Bring our holy man. We will take the Keep tonight."

"How?" Hvitserk shook his head in disbelief.

"They are going to open the gates…" He turned with a sadistic smirk on his face. "...for her."

* * *

There were two things that had Avery slow near the huts, just before the Keep. One being, she didn't know where the quiet one and his friends had gone. And two, if she came running, there was a possibility it could be mistaken for hostility.

Even in the cold she was sweating, panting as she rested up against the corner of the last line of houses. A deathly silence drifting along the bare grass between her and the high wall. It was far larger than the old Keep she was used to, and through the fog of the night she could see a pier peeking out towards the sky.

But fear still kept her hidden. They could kill her before she would reach the gate. There was a chance they wouldn't. However, Avery only had one life and not one to throw away with guessing.

One of the Keep's churchmen travelled along the wall. From the distance she made out he was idling. If she could capture his attention, it wouldn't spook them, so she thought.

Everything was so clear in that moment, her plan finally thought through. She knew she wouldn't stay after, fearing the Quiet One would find her and finally finish her off. No, she would give the message and leave. She would pawn Benedict's cross, head south, towards Wessex, and hope to stumble upon a farm or household. She was too old for safe passage with orphans and Church aid.

Not that she wanted to undergo a similar scenario as before, but her luck was out, worn thin. There was no innocence to plead on. She had bled multiple times while in the Keep of Benedict Biscop, and was now fully a woman.

Avery also knew that lone women didn't get far in this new world.

Taking a deep breath and gathering the cloak behind her, she lowered her hood and managed a foot within the light of the torches by the wall.

Only to be yanked back viciously, a squeak leaving her just before her mouth was covered briskly. She froze as she heard heavy panting over her shoulder, feeling hot breath in her hair. She tried to beg that she was sorry, only to be hushed, jolted by strong arms to keep quiet. It was that heavy-tongued language that made her heart fall while he mumbled to himself.

The guard peered over the wall, alerted by the faint noise Avery had let escape in surprise but began back on his way after a moment. When he did, the Quiet One relaxed, but still kept his hand clamped over her mouth.

"You've made a mistake, stulka," he said, and she whimpered while he prised the cross from her palm, spinning her to face him. "What did I say before? ...This is a pretty piece of jewellery." He stuffed it inside his cloth. "Was it for a message? Were you betraying the safety of my people?" There was no time to answer him. "You scream, I cut your tongue out."

The moment he lowered his hand, she spat on him. The rage fell off his face and he breathed out slowly. "It's a start…"

"I will  _never_  stop fighting you."

"You do what you want. But I want to make a trade." Her mouth fell open at the way he brushed her off. "Benedict, he a good man?"

"Why?" Her brows furrowed and he seemed amused. At first his scar was ugly, an unfortunate feature. Now, with the light from the wall it tinged his face and it was almost unnoticeable. He was just a man, not at all dirtied or covered in blood like the first time she saw him. The ferocity of his eyes was also dulled. If he wasn't so large and so tall, she wouldn't have feared him so.

"Come with me and I'll tell you." His gaze never wavered, and gradually Avery's breath was coming back to her. His lips quirked up at her uncertainty. "I walked alone with you in the woods once. Can I not be trusted?"

Avery fought to stay stern. "I don't trust anybody. Especially men like you."

"Good thing we are not men." He flickered between her eyes with a proud grin. "We are Vikings."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avery makes a big decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. :)

The Dog Chapter 4

The Quiet One always kept a hand on the top of Avery's arm, guiding her back quickly to the woods, beyond the treeline, where in the distance she was surprised to see movement. Once they were hidden, he stopped her again, and Avery shrugged his hand off.

"I'm not going to run," she hissed, fed up with his hovering.

"You lie beautifully."

Avery only frowned. "I have nothing to trade with you."

He clicked his tongue, placing his hands on his hips in thought while staring down at her. "I think you do. Well, not an item trade…"

Tilting her nose up at him, she pulled her cloak further around herself. "Not my body either."

"So, you do think lowly of me. That is nice to know."

"I hate the ground you walk on. I won't be fooled by you."

He snorted and ran a hand across his mouth. "Huh, that so. Well, you can hate me all you want but I am what stands between you and becoming an evening's entertainment." He sighed and stepped closer, keeping his voice low. "For the trade, it is your help in return for the life of your holy man. Your holy man can live if you make them open the gates."

"One life for a whole Keep? How stupid do you think I am?"

"Do you favour your life? If you don't, that is stupid. Not one of them in there care for you, not even a little. You are just a casualty." Avery peered to the ground, watching his leather boots step into her view as he crept closer. He wasn't wrong. She'd seen it before; how easily they disregarded her safety, how people were left behind. "And it is two lives we are talking about, including yours. If you don't help, there is no use for you, and I don't travel with useless people. It's not like we can let you go."

"This isn't a trade, it's bribery."

"..Or perhaps protection?" He smiled toothily. "But you call it what you wish."

"I do this, I become an enemy. Once you and your people are flogged back to your boats and leave, I have nothing but a past that is going to haunt me." She became desperate as she spoke, gripping the sides of her skirt in frustration, panic. "Will you kill me after?" Avery's eyes shone, and for a moment he was wordless. "What happens after? Am I a slave now? Will you give me to that…  _demon_ ," she spat.

The Quiet One seemed far away, then crossed his arms over his broad chest. "You are a slave now, stulka."

" _Slave_ …" She tested the word in a whisper, her sense of pride dwindling. "I have another condition."

"Yes? What is that?"

"I want to go back to my Keep. I need to know what happened to them."

"There is nothing to go back to." He chewed his cheek, tilting his head with a sigh. "But I will take you if you agree." Avery couldn't look at him anymore, and nodded, swallowing thickly. "Your name?"

"Avery."

"A word of advice,  _Avery_ ," he said her name so thickly, pronouncing it with the hindrance of his accent. "Betray me and you will know Hell. Pretty face or not." He roughly grabbed and spun her towards the men gathering heavily in the trees. "Move." And she did, this time without being restrained.

* * *

The path leading up to the large gate was quiet, just the sound of crunching earth under her feet disrupting the silence. Her heart pounded and the sweat that slowly started breaking out was cooled by the light drizzle. The Keep was a picturesque view, a form of sanctuary portrayed before her like the gates of heaven. Though, the devil secretly flanked her, the heathens slinking to nearby buildings, eyes locked on the prize, watching her and every movement.

For a group of dangerous, rumbunctious men, they were undeniably quiet - not a sound. No wonder her Keep never saw them coming.

"Halt!" shouted a man's voice when she got within reach and she froze.

"I come from Benedict Biscop's Keep to the North with news." She tried not to look around her, to give away anything. "And I'm in need of help." She lowered her hood, brandishing her cross for all to see against her chest, a woman standing alone at the mouth of dragons. If her accent and fluent talk wasn't anything they could trust, she could conjure up a prayer, or beseech them.

"Benedict Biscop?"

"Yes. There has been a great tragedy." She suddenly remembered what Benedict had told her. "It's for Father Murdoch's ears alone."

The one face of a man disappeared and left a great silence, and for moment she didn't think it had worked. Until the sound of thick chains began to rattle, a loud crack as the gate began to lower. It sheathed itself against the earth and Avery was signalled forward by paranoid and iron clad churchmen with spears in their hands.

Clasping her sweaty palms, she made a slow walk without any haste, praying for her soul, raindrops running from her hair down her face. She stopped within their reach. Confusion swept across their features when she whispered, "May the Lord be with you."

Deafening were the battle cries from the heathens as they passed her, weapons held high in full sprint, while she stood solidly in the middle of the path like a witch that had cast their deaths.

* * *

Eventually the celebrations of the night tumbled into the first light of the morning. Only a few had caught sleep. Ubbe wasn't one of them. His brother Hvitserk was outstretched on some furs, daydreaming across the small river by their camp.

"A Christian woman damning her people," he said aloud, not looking to Ubbe, chewing stolen dried meat. "She doesn't run now."

"No," Ubbe said. She was out by the water, crouching down to wash her hands, having aided a man with a blunt wound to his forearm. "She prays for it though. You can see it." And he could, her face turned into the sun, following the stream across the field. "But now she can't." Especially now, he thought.

"A Christian woman with courage," Hvitserk toyed.

"Is it courage or self-preservation? There is a difference."

With Ubbe's tone sharp, Hvitserk changed the subject. "The villagers will tell tales."

"Let them." Ubbe stood up and stretched. "We move soon. But there is something I must do. Perhaps you can lead and I will catch up."

"Let me guess, West?" Hvitserk sat up. "And where are you going?"

"I promised to take her back to the Keep to look. What for, apart from rubble, I'm not sure."

"It will be swamped with the Christians," Hvitserk almost laughed, linking his arms over his knees. "You can't be serious."

"My plan worked better than I thought. If I can't stick to my side of the bargain she won't do it again." Ubbe tied a knot in a sack of travelling items. "And we might need her to." He eventually glanced at Hvitserk with a smirk on his face. "You're not scared for me, little brother?"

"You know Ivar's men are here to watch you. Hendrick-"

"Can suck my cock. I may not be King of anything, but I rule here, right now." Ubbe flicked his wrist to the old man by the cart in the distance, beckoning his horse. "Dog or not."

"It's a stupid title only Ivar finds funny."

"Ah, well, I happen to not mind it much."

Hvitserk was bothered though, letting it show on his face. He'd seen the physical torture, the training, the pain. And still, Ubbe had come out on the other side, awoken by the leash of Ivar being cut.

The freedom, the distance, relying on hope of re-establishing their brotherhood kept Hvitserk restless. Yet, there was  _something_  still lost. It looked and sounded and had the quick criticism of Ubbe. But the determination and stamina, tactics, thinking rationally, were not.

Had this been what Ivar had subtly planted into Ubbe's image without possibly realising?

Hvitserk stared at Ubbe a long moment, even when the old man approached and Ubbe commanded another horse. It could have been a delirious, drunken thought but it dawned on him like the sun that lit up Ubbe hitching the saddle. He'd even said it himself. 'I may not be King, but I rule here'.

"Two days and I'll be back," Ubbe broke Hvitserk's thoughts. "Move our camp further West, a day's ride, and I'll find you."

The younger brother was still mesmerised in his own discoveries. "Yes, brother."

* * *

There was many things Avery was expecting. But for the Quiet One to approach from behind, the thudding of horses on reigns, was not.

"We go now," he told her.

Still ashamed, she didn't bother to speak to him, walking up to the horse tied to his where he helped her up onto it. He was covered in thick furs, a sack dangling down from the saddle. He briefly looked to her in silence and clicked his tongue, moving them out to the shallowest part of the river to cross again.

She wished she was knowledgeable, had paid attention to the lay of the land and took the few occasional lessons on basic survival seriously. But at the time it was left on deaf ears as she mourned for her family and old way of life. What drove her was basic instinct. And furthermore, a guilt so deep for betraying people just like her.

The sun burned her eyes and she squinted past the silhouette of the quiet one leading ahead until the liquidy warm rays slightly tinged her skin. If she was already going to burn in Hell for the children's sake, she may as well make damn sure that she lived in the short time that she had left. Maybe, once it becomes her time to leave and fall into the afterlife, God may forgive her then.

But could she forgive herself?

* * *

Avery had wrapped herself tightly in her cloak, letting the horse sway her from side to side, eyes heavy. The cold chapped her face and it had been hours since she could last feel her fingers.

The Quiet One dropped back until they were side by side, at a leisurely pace, and he didn't seem bothered by the weather at all. "On my travels I prefer to hear stories to pass the time," he said, watching her as she kept her eyes straight ahead.

"I know none."

He chuckled to himself. "Tell me of what happened to your home?" Avery raised an eyebrow, but still didn't say anything. "Your original home before you were a hidden slave girl."

"I minded the children. I wasn't a slave."

"So you say. Did they give you a pretty title instead?" He began reigning in the rope between them, bringing them closer. "You know, we have a  _very_  long way to go. It's going to be longer if you don't talk."

"Everybody was killed, every woman was raped, everyone is dead." The wind picked up and swung her hair, covering little noises from the horses and scurrying off into the trees in the distance.

"Hmm, apart from you." Suddenly he tugged on the reign of her horse and halted it.

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you so you can get off on the details?" she finally snapped. "Do you want me to tell you how I watched people and the buildings burn? How I hear them still?" She turned her nose up at him. "Ha, that is probably exactly what you want to hear. You're all a bunch of scruffy barbarians. There is nothing between you and those who ransacked my village."

The Quiet One leant over and grabbed her foot, unhooking it from the saddle, and in one easy movement flipped her entirely off the other side. She landed with an 'oomph', the air knocked from her. He laughed loudly. "Your skills on horseback are terrible, stulka." She was dusting herself off angrily. "I need to rest. Here will do. We have cover and I can tie the horses." He grunted as he dropped down, pulling away the two steads and tying them. He brought back his sack, laid out a fur he'd stashed and sat down. Avery took a place opposite him, far away enough that he couldn't touch her, but near that she could still hear him and not look like she was running away again.

He indulged himself on bread and dried fruits while Avery wrinkled her nose at him, hugging her knees. "You eat like a dog," she said, beginning to pluck grass.

"It works for me. I am called The Dog." While he took another bite, Avery got a glimpse of fine braids crossing over the top of his head, and then into the small hair he had pulled back.

"That is not something you should be proud of." His blue eyes shot up, daring her to speak further. "Dog," she let out slowly.

"I am going to get tired of you very quickly. Have I not stuck to my word? You should be thankful." Out of his sack he pulled a lump of meat and carved a piece with his knife, sticking it on the end.

"Oh, yes. Let me thank you for being a dog walking upright. Scavenging peaceful villages, stealing, killing."

He stood so quickly she jumped and shuffled back, but not fast enough. He pulled her up by the back of her hair, his breath curling out in foggy whispers while he cursed in his language over the sound of her prayers.

At last, he held up the knife. "Enough with your noise. Eat. And when you're finished, you can find wood for a fire." He shook her to capture her attention. "And no more from that mouth of yours." He tipped the point of the knife towards her, and she took the food. "Good."

* * *

They'd fallen asleep around the fire. It was Avery who woke first as the flames died down to nothing but embers and the chill set back in. The Quiet One was on his back, long and deep breaths while he slept, and in one hand Benedict's cross.

It looked as though he had been examining it before dozing off, though she didn't see him doing that. But right now it glinted so openly for the taking, loose in his palm.

_It's not his to keep_ , she told herself, sitting up.  _It is mine_.

And it was indeed hers. Benedict had given it to her. It was her salvation, her currency if she ever survived being a Viking's captive. And on that thought she crawled on her knees very slowly, taking it from his large and scarred hands, claiming it back for herself. Acting like she hadn't moved at all when he begins to stir, she rests her head back down and pretends to sleep.

* * *

Avery got the feeling they were close just before the light had begun to die earlier that day, leaving them travelling by moonlight. The river had began to widen, similar to how it was by her Keep, how she had last seen it on that night.

The Dog, The Quiet One, or whatever his name was that she still hadn't learnt, lead ahead, casually guiding her horse with their tie. She'd been gloating inwardly to herself the whole time as so far he hadn't noticed, and a smile kept threatening beneath the half-faked forlorn look on her face.

"We are almost there," he said, confirming her thoughts, his voice trailing off while keeping his sights turned straight ahead of him. He dropped back beside her again. "When we get there, we are quiet."

She nodded. There was nothing she had to say to him. The night was beautiful and calm, the moon lighting their way. It shone from the mane of her horse while she pulled her fingers through it.

"Isn't it a sin to steal?" Avery snapped her head to him, mouth opening to defend herself but he interrupted her. "I know you took it." His voice was smug, body swaying with each step of the horse. "Don't deny you didn't."

"Well, it is mine," she said curtly, scrutinizing him with a frown. "You stole it from me. I was taking it back." He only chuckled. "And if you should know, it is my salvation after I am free from you. I will sell it if I need to. Then my plan is to find work, a manor or farm... Keep a roof over my head until I find a husband…" she mumbled the last part, not really agreeing with the idea that in order to have a normal life, she needed a husband.

Sometimes she didn't even think she would live to have one. And so far, with what she had seen, she didn't know if she would be healed enough from her experiences to live so quietly. She would be forever dreaming off into the night in vivid nightmares, perhaps screaming out that the Vikings were coming again while they slept. That no place was safe.

"Once I am finished with my duties here, I will have a big farm. You can work on my farm."

Avery scowled at him. He was leaning over his horse in his own amusement. "If there is any good in this world, you will be dead," she said simply.

"My name is Ubbe. That is what you will call me." He was smirking, self-assured. "When you are my slave on my farm, I will allow you to call me by my name… perhaps. I will think about it more - whether I can put up with such a heated mare."

"Your humour is sad." She meant to offend him, but it didn't work. He was happy for a reaction she'd tried all this time not to give him. "And your name is stupid, ooh bear."

Even though he had demanded silence, he laughed loudly. "Your accent is joyful. Your mannerisms not so…" He thought about what he wanted to say for a moment. "A little guidance and you could talk like a true Viking." They began to incline a hill to a break through some woods, having to turn away from the river on their detour. "It's U, B, B, E. Ubbe."

"It still sounds like an infant cooing to a beast."

"I like that…"

She couldn't help but snort in disdain, trying to cling to her horse and not show she was fearful. "It is not a good thing."

"Your mouth is still feral, that is not a good thing. Especially while still being held captive, stulka. It could get you into trouble."

"Don't call me th-" Her horse suddenly stumbled, lost its footing and slid back while she held on for dear life. It made an awful noise, a squeal, and Avery tried her best to unhook her feet and roll off the horse's side as it collapsed and began to slide all the way to the bottom, leaving her a crumpled mess half way. Ubbe let their tie go and motioned his horse to the brow of the hill, then skidded back down, bringing debris with him.

Avery coughed, once again thrown from the saddle. But this time, Ubbe pulled her to sit up. She groaned from the jolt, but the whimpering of the horse was worse. At the bottom it lay heavily breathing, throwing a hoof out, and Ubbe, having looked, wiped a hand down his face cursing. "Stay here," he told her, his eyes saying more.

She watched him unsheath a knife that was hidden within his furs, make his way down quickly to the stead laying helpless, and without hesitation, jammed it through the animals skull. He took whatever supplies her horse was carrying and jogged back up to her still seated in a daze on the incline.

He flicked his head to get moving back up the hill, and she did so, watching him climb effortlessly back onto his horse. "You ride with me now." And without speaking further, pulled her up to sit behind him.

"You killed it," she said, barely.

"I killed it quickly rather than letting it die slowly. We can't help a horse with a bad leg," he said, his amusement completely deflated by the unexpected accident.

Avery nodded to which he couldn't see. Then, he prompted by shifting his elbows outward and letting her hold onto him, her fingers slipping between his furs, finally finding warmth.

* * *

There was no bodies like Avery had seen in her foresight. All the little huts that used to surround the Keep in a magnificent show of life, were all but five. Three, if she didn't count the ones that still stood erect but without roofs and half blackened. It smelt charred and burnt too. A smell not like campfires and comfortable memories of feeling safe and warm, but a poignant stench that was wretched. When she looked down on the dirt, it was etched with pools and lines from a rain that must have passed, and the reason why the smell was so powerful.

As far as she could see in the dawn lighting, there was no Keep but a shell of a once fortified wall.

They stayed seated on Ubbe's horse, walking directly through the middle - through the silence. They had hung back far enough to watch for movement, to be left with nothing but a bird tittering down to the ground and pecking, calling to its mate and fluttering off. There was not a soul.

"It doesn't exist anymore…" she managed to breath through the squeeze in her chest. She went to slip off the side but Ubbe grabbed her thigh.

"There are track marks," he said cautiously.

"They are gone." She intentionally used her blunted nails to try and hurt him as she pushed his hand away, but he didn't flinch at all. Slipping down, she surveyed her surroundings. "They are all gone."

With her feet flat on the ground, she searched aimlessly, each image burning into her mind. She could see her own village now, how it looked after the raids. She could feel how the people did when they came across it. All of those things she didn't experience and wished she could to lay her mind to rest, only triggered it.

"Avery-"

"Shut up!" She turned on him with tear-stained cheeks marking through the dirt on her face, pointing a finger to drive her point home. "Don't you speak to me!" She ran through what was once the arch of the Keep's gateway and across the barren courtyard towards what would have been the entrance to the kitchen.

She could remember stumbling through the fencing of the chickens, the items scattered around her when she had fled to find help, telling the children to stay there. They were supposed to hide and not come out unless days had passed or she had come back for them.

Avery's knees gave out.

They never had a chance. The weight of the building had fallen sideways, crushing everything in its path.

* * *

Rubble and dust, nothing else was left. After a while, the guilt shifted to sadness, leaving her in a bleary haze. Emotionless, still entranced by the exact place where the kitchen of the Keep used to stand, she rose to her feet. The horse snorting as it came to a stop behind her was the only sound.

"We can't stay here, stulka," he said in a low voice, sounding almost compassionate.

Avery knew they had been here longer than necessary, knew that she couldn't stay here much longer, frozen to the very bone. "You slaughtered them without any thought, just like that horse. Are the innocent seen as bad limbs - unworthy of fixing?"

"Men have fought over land endlessly; way before we were born, and long after we die." She finally turned to look at him while he spoke. "We are all pieces to a lasting game and will never see the end to it. That is what you must see." He gestured towards the rubble. "Not this."

"Is there a choice?"

"To play the game? No. It has already started. But some of us make do. And we do that, we all lose something. It's what keeps us playing. It is the way it goes and always will."

Avery gathered her cloak around her. "And your farm? Is that what keeps you going?"

"It is my dream. I know I will never see it," he admitted. She went to the back of the horse and Ubbe shook his head, holding out a leather bound hand to her. "You take my hand and you risk playing something with no known end, stulka. But it is the path of the make-do. And I think you have already suffered your losses, don't you?"

Her fingers itched, half extended to his. "What does that mean?"

"That you may find something that keeps you playing. And from nothing, we can only gain."

"You sound like you know a lot about it?"

He ignored this question, his posture only giving away the slightest discomfort with it. "It is time to go."

Avery noted the damaged and scarred palms of his bared to her; the knicks and scabs of terrible doings. When seeing her own half-extended in moral hesitation, there wasn't much of a difference.

Her fingers slid past his slowly, an uncertainty, but rather, a fascination. The possibility of finding answers to nightmares, her own existence, and how far her beliefs would carry her began to swarm her mind. There was a chance to heal, even if minutely, and also, to see the faces behind the monsters that plagued every day of her life.

She could save one man - Benedict. But she couldn't save them all. Maybe that was her objective, her path she was destined to take.

Avery's feverish touch was hastened by his roughness. He grabbed her hand, pulling her up until she sat in front of him. An uncomfortable minute passed as they adjusted, a turn of her head to see him behind her so close and leaving her blushing.

Ubbe tugged the reigns and guided the horse back around.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting, and everything else. Hugely appreciate it. :)

The Dog Chapter 5

* * *

Avery was too tired to keep her head up any longer. Slowly, in a drift of sleep, she began sagging down in the saddle. She'd only just started to notice the bodily aches, and worst off, the smell of days without bathing. She was sure there was dried blood in her hair, and even in her weary state she checked her fingers for blackness like she'd seen on Benedict Biscop's feet. It had haunted her since she'd seen it.

Ubbe was relentless and continued on, eating in the saddle without much rest himself, though he didn't say a word. His chin would occasionally bump her head but the awkwardness of being shoved together had long gone.

Her body was beginning to tell her she couldn't take much more without a moment's peace from shivering. "Ooh bear," it sounded like she said. "Can we stop. I need to stop."

It was as if God was on her side, the pitter patter of rain beginning to hit their wears. A small tiny sense of hope dared to envelop her.

"Not now," he lowly grumbled, half distracted in his thoughts.

"Please," she whispered. "My god, I can't feel my toes."

"Not. Now," he growled and she almost retorted, but she was too weak, so that was the end to the conversation.

* * *

Ubbe had come to a halt, gazing far out into the distance, a light flickering in the darkness. Avery simply didn't care anymore and had turned in on herself, huddling for warmth and some form of comfortable position. She hadn't ridden horses so much before and was sure there was bruising.

It must have been because they stopped, he remembered her, because he suddenly grabbed her face and turned it towards him. Her lips had turned a sickly shade of purple, her skin burning to touch. He cursed some pretty sounding words. "Stulka, you're sick?"

"I tried… I tried to tell you."

He grunted, kicked the horse to move faster and cantered purposefully. Avery found the strength to look, seeing the smallest of farms getting bigger. Maybe it wasn't the fact that he suddenly remembered her, maybe he was thinking about rest himself and hadn't made up his mind until he put his focus on her.

A flutter of chickens scattering and hooves from cows thumping the ground in pens sounded as they trotted past, spooked by their arrival. Ubbe was down from the saddle in an instant, pulling her off, and carried her towards the small wooden door. He kicked it open and a family of four jumped up from the table. It was only one large room where they slept, ate, and lived, a curtain sectioning some of it off from sight.

He bore a sword for show while they begged, and Ubbe ignored them entirely, leaving Avery huddled by the door to throw back the curtain.

"The girl," he ordered, eyes still on the room.

"Please... Look, we don't want any trouble," the man began, hands out and pleading.

"The girl. The girl, now." Ubbe kicked over a chair while the mother of the small farm rushed to Avery. She helped her to the table, placing a hand to her cheek.

"It's-it's just the cold. You must've been traveling for a while."

Ubbe barely registered anything she said and picked up a decanter, smelling the contents inside before downing it. He helped himself to some eggs and watched two small boys cower in the corner of the room.

The woman pushed Avery onto another chair by the fire. "Start boiling water," she said to her husband. "Boys, fetch the bathing pot."

The room buzzed to life and Ubbe kept note of every movement. Stepping quietly up to Avery's side while her teeth chattered continuously, he revelled the glorious warmth the fire emitted before he got down to her level and whispered, "Be very careful with what you decide to say, stulka. I'd hate to see something bad happen."

"I can't… I can't even think right now," she stammered, and he merely clapped her shoulder, squeezing it lightly for good measure as he straightened.

Finally, when the bath was almost prepared, the sloshing of boiled water being mixed in the tub, the woman of the farm approached him cautiously. "I'll need to be going behind that curtain if you want her to have any dignity."

Ubbe nodded once and took a seat at the table with his sword placed between his legs, facing the curtain, back to the wall, while the husband and boys sat in silence as far away from him as possible. "It is a nice home you have," he said thickly in his accent but they only stared at him in fear.

Scoffing to himself, he relaxed, stripping a layer of furs off in the humidity of the room. He was graced with just enough view to see Avery being helped to undress while sat on a stool, her head down, but not out of embarrassment, the sickness had moved her beyond that. Her clothes were draped over the line with the curtain and she was aided into the bath before Ubbe decided to eventually look way.

"Get some water over the fire, keep it warm," the woman ordered, and she spoke softly to Avery, some of it Ubbe couldn't quite catch. "I want some warm milk too."

* * *

The woman and Avery had been in the sectioned part of the house too long and whispering too quietly for Ubbe's liking. He got up in silence and checked on the two young boys having been sent to the other side of the house to sleep first, then signalled to the father to not move, before throwing back the curtain and making his presence known.

Avery was still in the tub, a cloth over the entirety of it to keep in the warmth with only her head poking out.

"You look better," he said, folding his arms, seeing a more humanly pink glow to her cheeks and rosy lips. Her hair had been washed and combed away from her face, and she gave him a weak smile.

"Is this the sort of farm you want, ooh bear?"

He wasn't expecting that, and scoffed, the smallest etch of embarrassment because the older woman was still glancing between them. He paused and searched out the stool he'd seen Avery sit on before and pulled it up to be closer. Ubbe then scrutinised the older woman with a long sigh before making a decision. "Thank you. You can go to your children now."

She left with a bow of her head, and their private section flickered in dim candlelight from her movement. "Were you making sure I wasn't trying to escape?" Avery's voice brought his sight back to her, but she was smiling and lazily closed her eyes. "I wouldn't mind a farm if I could bathe like this every day. Is this why you want this life?"

He was reluctant to join in on such talk, running a tongue along his teeth, and then leaning forward on his knees.

"It's strange," she continued in a tired voice. "I have many thoughts on Vikings, but one living and running a farm is new to me. It's hard to picture it. And when I do, I see animals wrapped in leathers ready for battle."

"You're mocking me." But he meant it light-heartedly, not bothered if she was or not.

"No. Really." Avery's expression went sullen and she stared at the wall. "The woman wants me to stay and you to go. You  _could_  leave me here."

"No."

"I won't tell anyone about what happened. I won't even mention it." Avery moved and the water sloshed as she sat up more. "She said her husband would take me to the nearest town and I can find refuge. I have Benedict's cross-"

"You know too much."

"I don't know anybody to tell. Nobody knows who I am."

"And Benedict is a dead man," he finished her tirade of pleas. "And I have more use for you. So, it is a no. And stop while you are ahead. We will stay a little longer and then we are leaving, understand?"

"I should have killed you in your sleep," she hissed at him, adjusting in the bath, flicking more water over the side.

Ubbe only laughed. "You are  _obviously_  feeling a little better."

"I will do it next time," she said with determination.

"There won't be a next time."

The woman coughed as she stepped into view, and Avery sunk lower in the tub. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, fine," Ubbe said. "Do you have clothes for the girl; warm clothes? We will take them and be gone in a few hours." He looked at Avery festering angrily in the tub. "We are sorry to have frightened you." He said it for her peace of mind but she still didn't acknowledge him, so he stood up and dusted off his pants. "I will tend to my horse, but keep the water so I can use it. Avery has a pretty cross which will pay for your time."

"You wouldn't dare!" Avery gasped.

Ubbe threw a hand up nonchalantly as he walked away. "Pay the woman, stulka. And also for their silence," he passively warned.

* * *

As well as her original clothes, Avery now had another overcoat and furs wrapped around her shoulders. She felt stricken leaving the small farm. The man and woman who had aided them so without question stood in the doorway in the early hours of the morning to see them off. Their intent was most probably seeing them leave the property, but Avery didn't feel they were all too forceful. It was by luck to find people so forgiving.

Ubbe's horse snorted as she approached, and he hauled her up in front of him again. She kept her eyes in front of them, sensing his impatience. This time, even if she wanted to, she couldn't see him, her sight being blocked by her hood. Giving up the small idea of freedom altogether, she concentrated fully on her winding path ahead. She would be seeing Benedict again, the whole tribe of barbarians, a life that seemed far away when she had closed her eyes and soaked in warm water.

"Wait!" yelled the woman, dashing up the path. She was out of breath, eyes wide and messy hair, searching out Avery's hand and gripped it tightly. "I didn't say this before but I have to now." She heard Ubbe sighing behind her. "I believe you were our sign. Me and my husband, so far from the villages, don't ever ask for much in prayers but there is one thing we always do. And that is peace, in whichever way the Lord decides."

Avery shook her head. "I am just a slave."

"I was speaking about a Christian woman riding with a Viking man, stumbling upon our solitary farm when we thought our prayers were being unanswered. My faith is never stronger than in this moment." The woman shuffled around in her pocket and pulled out Benedict's cross, placing it back into Avery's hand. "This is yours."

"But-"

The woman shook her head. "It will buy us many things, but not a place in Heaven."

Ubbe clicked his tongue and kicked the horse to move off. It was only further up the path, beyond the fence posts of the animals, under the silent blue hue of the moon that he spoke quietly. "Don't cry, stulka."

* * *

The track they followed led them over countryside Avery didn't recognise, nor had she remembered what direction they went in, only that the moon had disappeared over her right shoulder long ago. Ubbe had started humming a tune for a while.

"What is that?" she asked on the urge. She'd been listening to it for long enough.

"What?"

"That song you're humming. What is it?" Avery glanced behind her. It tweaked her back, her hips, and she hissed from the ache, flexing her spine to relieve it.

"Put a leg over the side, change the way you sit." He stopped the horse and it naturally lowered its head to the grass, giving her enough room to put her leg over so she rode the horse sitting sideways. When it moved she felt she would fall and grabbed his forearm holding the reigns, looking away in embarrassment but not daring to let go. "I don't bite, stulka." He laughed to himself. "Or maybe I do, they call me The Dog afterall."

"I'm inside a heathen's grasp. What do you expect?"

"Oh,  _again_  with the heathen talk. I thought we would be over that. Is it a natural defense of yours to be immediately angry when you feel uncomfortable?" She didn't answer, blinking into the sunlight. "The song is something I knew as a child." He frowned in thought. "It's more a story turned into a song. I don't know the translation."

"A rhyme?"

Ubbe shrugged. "Perhaps. I will have to take your word for it."

Curiosity got the better of her. "So, what is the story?"

He smiled as she cleared her throat, peeking at him from the corner of her eye. "You are interested in hearing stories now?"

"You were the one to say you liked to tell stories on your travels."

"It's a sad story with meaning behind it," he said. "Sung softly."

"What is it with everything being sad." She pinched the leathers bound around his wrist, feeling the material absentmindedly.

"It's harder to forget maybe. But it's also a lesson. And with different people it means different things. I have my own thoughts on it." He tilted his head at her, more enthused that she was listening so intently, pushing him on. "But it begins with a young boy and a flock of sheep. His father has him work, telling him to be quicker and smarter and to think of the family - how his being slow-"

"Lazy."

"Yes, lazy, how it affects the family and future. One day he ventures out on a bad night when his father told him not to. He takes the sheep to a new, better place-"

"Pasture."

"A new  _pasture_  to feed. The weather is bad, and there is flashes and noise. The night hides the cliffs. The sheep become fearful and run in every direction, eventually to the cliff, where he loses every single sheep." Ubbe hesitates and Avery senses the bleak ending coming. "He asks for a punishment in return so that his father could truly see he was sorry. The Gods answer by blinding him. And it was their will for him to stumble blindly in fear like the sheep, and fall… To keep the sheep even in death."

Avery couldn't find words for a moment. "That's awful. Your parents sang you songs like that?"

"You miss the point, Avery. It's about doing a job too well - to impress. It is not as good as doing it because you wanted to, for yourself." Ubbe watches her crinkled brows, the light shadowing of her face, settling his arm to rest on her leg without her noticing. "What do you think it means?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"That he should have listened to his parents…" The corner of her mouth tugs up, only slightly. "And that he wasn't born to be a shepherd."

"Like I said, everyone has a different idea about what it means." Both their bodies swayed and their eyes met. "But I like the way you think."

Avery's smile faltered and she pushed his arm up and away from her. "How long is there left? Are we almost there?"

"Depending on how my brother travelled, we shouldn't be far." They both looked up through the the crowd of trees they had begun to ride under, the sun filtering through the branches until it grew darker, the only sound being the horse's hooves turning up the ground beneath them.

Avery took note of the use of 'brother' but kept it to herself because from the calm they had over the many fields, she grew suddenly wary, and Ubbe could sense it too. He stopped the horse, the animal's ears pricking up around the dense brush, the tree trunks thick and heavy apart from a single track that curved from sight. He turned so they were sidelong and studied the area intensely, a small bird fluttering quickly and calling a tune of danger. He silently descended from the horse.

Avery swallowed thickly, gripping the reigns and throwing her leg back over so she could ride properly, trying to see what he did and failing. "What is it? Ooh bear? What-"

"Shh!" He signalled ahead. "Keep riding. Slowly."

"Are you not coming? What's ahead? Am I to go... alone?"

"Do as I say." He pushed the horse forward. "Don't look for me."

"Maybe you should do this. I'm not good at riding horses anyway... I'm scared," she rambled off, turning her head to find him completely gone from view. Her chest heaved and she froze, searching for him to no avail. Breathing in deeply, she motioned the horse forward and it began to walk, its ears flickering to places all around her. She took the curve in the path ahead, further up seeing sunlight and an opening.

A loud whistle sounded, a cocky tune, a man making himself known, leaning up against a tree with a small knife twirling in his hand. He flipped it over and bared a smile with chipped teeth, and those that were left were black. "Hello, sweet thing." He checked behind her, eyes glinting in glee to find she was alone. "It's dangerous to go riding without an escort. What brings you through here?"

Avery's head snapped to more movement from the other side, another person appearing. She tried to steady her breathing. "I could ask you the same thing?"

"We're just following word. Apparently there is a lot of unusual activity around here." He tilted his head and began to approach. A thousand things ran through her mind. Was he talking about seeing Ubbe's men? Were they that close? Were they following the vikings from each village and picking up the pieces left behind? "Why don't we be more civil and get you down from that lovely horse there."

Avery yanked back on the reigns and tried to avoid him getting closer. The horse stomped its feet, but she was pounced on from the other side; the horse startled with a shriek and she was pulled from the saddle.

"Let's look at all the treats you have for us." Avery jolted her arm against the man holding her, testing his grasp, then seeing two more men slinking out from the woods.

The man with the knife just grazed Ubbe's sack when the anger rose in her. "Touch that and you are all dead men."

"Ah? Really? What's in it then?"

A thump, a sound so specific, like cracking fruit or pummeling meat, had Avery shrink in on herself. It was all so fast that she only had the time to flinch. Glancing at the man once holding her because his grip became loose, she saw him turning his head with a small axe impaled above his ear.

Ubbe came charging out of the brush and rid of the other two in the time it took Avery to blink. They were too surprised to make any effort to defend themselves, barely unsheathing their swords. It left the man with his hands still on Ubbe's personal belongings.

Avery pulled out Benedict's cross and held it up like she would a knife in case she needed to defend herself, shifting from foot to foot, holding up a piece of her dress with her other hand for personal support.

"You're a trickster!" the man bellowed at her. "A Viking's whore!"

Ubbe brought his sword over one shoulder and threw it like a spear, through the man's neck and digging upright, through him, in the ground. It wobbled and stilled. Avery could only watch, still prepped - what for, she had no idea, after all she had no skill at all.

Ubbe approached her, pushed her arm down while she caught her breath. "My brother must be close," he said, yanking the axe from the man's skull next to her. Then he went to fetch his sword.

"You had me walk into a trap!" Avery followed close behind. "They could have killed me instantly!"

"It's not a trap if I already know about it."

" _I_ didn't know," she said incredulously, gesturing around her with a hand. "I had no idea!"

"You wouldn't have done it if I had told you." Ubbe was somewhat breathless, wiping his sword off with a piece of rag. "And I had to know how many were hiding, otherwise they could have killed us both. Or we could do it your way and just walk straight into them, take our chances we might pick off the first two to get attacked by the second lot. Maybe one of us might live, perhaps you. Then later a passing group of villagers may find your bloodied body twisted in the mud, huh? How do you feel about that?"

He passed her, his face inches from hers that made her step back. "Why are  _you_  so angry?"

"Because I don't like people questioning me! I don't like people who should know their place, raise their voices because they think they can. Now get on the horse and shut your mouth!" he ordered, gritting his teeth.

Avery clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her hand, her face pulled into a seething expression. She should be the one rightfully angry. Her life was put on the line without a second thought. They could have killed her. She watched him get up on the horse before she bent down and picked up a rock from the mud, and threw it at him. He looked shocked, his shoulders flinching inwards, glaring furiously at her. So she picked up another.

"Get it out of your system now, stulka. When we get back your attitude isn't going to sit well," he warned, just to receive a stick to the arm in reply. "Stop that!"

"What you are doing is no different to what they were doing!" She threw something else and he turned the horse around, circling her until thundering forward and hoisting her up in a strong lift, shoving her sideways in front of him. The air was knocked from her but she managed to cling onto him as the horse bolted down the track, the leaves whipping past, her body not in time with the horse's stride.

"You would be dead if you weren't bred the way you are," he told her as they slowed. "A heated mare. I knew you could do it, that's why I let you. And I know you are worth my time. Because you can help me on my path of conquer. And I know you will. Your fighting talk is only skin deep." He smiled down at her while he held her in his lap. "I heard you saying you were scared. Go ahead and deny it if you want to."

Avery's mouth was dry and she wet her lips, shifting to sit up properly. "I would be stupid if I wasn't."

"You should be scared. Remember where you are when we get back. Others are a little less friendly, and won't take the mockery of a Christian woman." He licked his thumb and wiped a drop of blood from her cheek. "I am what stands between you and meeting your maker. Or worse, a viking's whore."

Avery slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me," she hissed, steadying herself from the motion. "And don't claim to help me either. I hate you. I hate what you stand for-"

"Oh, this is boring..."

"I hate what you do. I will  _never_  stop fighting you. I will do what I have to, to try and help Benedict. But I swear, after-"

"Avery, there is no need to remind me of your long list of future plans while you hold onto my clothes so tightly." He raised an eyebrow. "You may start giving a man wrong ideas."

"I… I…" She realised she was holding onto him with fisted hands in his furs. She blushed, turning away. He'd won this argument.

But she couldn't let it lie, peering out on to the vast and bright field, the camp of Ubbe's party having set up a rather becoming sight ahead of them. She straightened her back, saying just loud enough for him to hear, "I still dislike you."

He chuckled, shifting to sit more confidently with the gait of the horse. "We'll see."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments/kudos/everything. This chapter was surprisingly a toughy, and a lot longer than intended. Enjoy :)

* * *

 

Ubbe brought the horse to a stop on the outer circle of a fire directly in the middle of the camp where it was surrounded by people leisurely sitting and congregating around on logs to keep warm. Hvitserk and Hendrick got up, moving from the mass of bodies that greeted Ubbe. He slipped down from the saddle, leaving Avery upon the horse and stormed over to Hendrick. Avery didn't expect the vast shift in his attitude at all. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but by the way Ubbe was hitching up Hendrick by the scruff of his neck, his feet leaving the ground, it couldn't have been a happy reunion.

The crowd of people scattered out of the way, and Hendrick hit a log and tumbled back. Ubbe bent down close to his face. "You were being followed!" Ubbe shouted at the top of his lungs. "Saxons followed you. Hidden in the trees just feet from where you sit drinking and eating, laughing with the loot in hand."

"They'd be stupid to approach!" Hendrick coughed out, being strangled under the hold of his collar. Hvitserk touched Ubbe's shoulder warily, trying to calm him.

Ubbe shook Hendrick, snapping his head back and forth. "I want you to check the area, now! And don't come back until you can barely walk." He let him go and sniffed, wiping his cuff across his nose, keeping his voice low. "They tried to trap us through the gap in the trees. I should  _kill you_  for your ignorance."

Hvitserk tugged on him, pulling him away. Hendrick got up and patted himself off, scowling, and kicked a flagon across the way to the dissatisfaction of a few bystanders.

"You're late, brother," Hvitserk said cautiously. "I was expecting you sooner. If I hadn't heard within the next day, I would have come searching for you." Ubbe hummed in response watching Avery get down to her feet, obviously searching for Benedict. "I have news." That caught his attention and he finally turned back to Hvitserk. "Ivar has sent large groups, some further south to raid East Anglia. We've had a plea from an Earl. And another group is on the way to meet us here."

"Why more?"

"It's said Ivar is taking Northumbria. We have them afraid. Each little Earl sat supposedly safe is shaking with fear and bickering over who rules what with a new King in Wessex to shake things up. I feel there is a change in the air. Something is coming." Ubbe's eyes softened at the sight of his younger brother's hopeful face. "What are your thoughts?"

"We raid everything within half a day's ride and prepare for our new arrivals." Ubbe breathed heavily through his nose, releasing his annoyances, and pointed back out towards the trees where he and Avery had come from. "Apart from that direction. There is nothing there."

Hvitserk bared a grin of pride. "I already have our next prospect."

"Ah, good man." Ubbe clapped him on the back. "Now get me some ale." He tried his hardest not to watch as Avery was restrained and then walked to a tent just off from the main fire with a guy leisurely drinking outside, weapon balancing on his leg, guessing that that was where they were keeping Benedict. Regardless of being shoved forward, she looked over her shoulder at him.

Their few days of travel together made him somewhat torn, assuming that there was a hardy, strong personality to the Christian woman's face. But before he could linger on that thought, a jug of ale was placed in his hand and he drowned it in an instant.

* * *

Avery was pushed into a cold tent with Benedict lying upon a thin sheet of material and an equally meager one over his legs. He looked pale, and if it were not for his snoring, she would assume he was dead. She quickly made her way to him and touched his forehead, checking how well he was.

"Father Benedict?" she whispered, only to have him jump out of his skin and grab her, flailing wildly. "Benedict, it's Avery!"

"You are... alive?" he asked in bewilderment. "I thought you were dead. I thought you'd left me here alone. I thought they were going to kill me but for some reason have kept me alive. It is God's way."

Avery couldn't find the strength to tell him that it was from a barbaric deal she made. "I went back to the Keep. There is nothing left. Everything is gone; the people, the children-"

"What did you do that for?" He ran a hand over the furs on her shoulders, then gripped them tightly, pulling it from her. "Oh, thank God for you, child. We must share these things so vital." He placed the furs on himself, around his neck, and she stared at him in surprise. But she let him have them because he was the man that took her in when she had nowhere else to go and when no one else would.

"Check my feet!" he barked, snapping her out of the thought.

Blinking a few times, she didn't quite know if she wanted to. She shuffled back, meekly pulling up the sheet. They were bright red and swollen, a crust of brown on the tip of each toe. If a pin would prick them, they would surely pop. "They have been feeding me some sort of medicine," he explained. "Has it worked?"

"I heard rumours that blackness meant loss or death. I didn't know-"

"They are heathens, child. Heathens!" For a man as undernourished as him, his jowls still swayed while he spoke. "They use all sorts of sorcery..." His voice drifted off as he fully looked over her, up and down, and raised a brow. "You have food?"

"I have nothing."

He nodded slowly. "We should sleep next to each other at night... for the warmth," he added. "We should sit together while in here in the day too." He flipped back the sheet and a foul smell emitted from him.

Avery wrinkled her nose. "Father, have they cleaned you since-"

"They have left me to rot," he spat, turning his head away from her while he seethed. "But, as you are so concerned, maybe you could ask them for a chance to wash; a rag or bucket of water will do. And I will need your help."

Avery wasn't going to detest the suggestion. She nodded and scooted away from him, towards the entrance of the tent and poked her head out, seeing the guard casually resting. This was definitely going to be a request lost in translation.

* * *

It was the laughter that had her mortified, but not for herself. Two strong men held each arm of Benedict's while he protested continuously. They stripped him from a distance with their swords after seeing the shit stained overshirt he was wearing.

They spoke quickly in their language, with large smiles full of teeth and jesting between each other. They took Benedict to the edge of a small pond, then let him go, watching his pale body fall face first into the freezing water. He splashed and spluttered while all Avery could do was watch. When he did manage to paddle his way to the edge, they pushed him back in with the tip of their boots.

It was becoming dark and the fires the Vikings had lit flickered at the top of the hill. It would have been peaceful if not for Benedict's struggle. But there was no way she could stand another minute inside the tent with the smell of what she could only describe as death invading her senses. So she stomached the torment of being idle eyes, trying to push away the sounds that always lingered in the back of her mind; the sounds her mother made. She pushed her hands together and prayed silently towards the stars.

* * *

Avery had refused to be anywhere near Benedict, opting to sleep on the other side of the tent. She was dreaming of flying above the fields she'd seen on her journeys. The scenery skimmed past beneath her, the grass was illuminous like it was in the midst of summer, the sky blue and cloudless. She saw a wild boar beneath her which lifted its head when she was right above it. Opening its jaws to roar at her, it groaned beastly instead. Its jaws were shaking and the sound emitting from the animal so vivid as if it was right in front of her.

She suddenly awoke, her eyes shot open, trying to push up but a sweaty palm clamped over her mouth. She let out a muffled scream when she finally realised that Benedict was crawling his way on top of her. He was heavy, clammy, but cold. It had been a few hours before she had drifted off after his dip, hearing him shiver to himself, groaning the whole while, muttering about needing more layers.

She hit out but he shushed her. "Avery, Avery, stop. I know this is entirely inappropriate but I am so  _damn_  cold." He was so heavy she felt she couldn't breathe.

So she bit him, hard, then yelled, pushing at him while he rolled away with pain. She scrambled and fell back through the tent's entrance and the guard shot up. He glanced between her horrified face and Benedict withering to himself with his hand in the air.

Avery pointed at Benedict. "He was-" She cut herself off, unable to voice what exactly he was doing. And telling a viking that he had invaded her personal space seemed pointless. He hadn't exactly harmed her. But  _something_  still felt wrong.

Of course, the guard didn't understand her.

"I'm not going back in there!" she shouted at him once he began pushing her back towards the tent's entrance. She knocked his arm away. "I said  _no_!" He hit her, hard, straight across the cheek that had her stumble on her feet while he cursed under his breath. It left her with a brandished mark, a split in the skin.

From the distance, Hvitserk was in the right position to see the commotion. He put his drink down and nudged an exhausted Ubbe, taking off first before Ubbe could get his senses together. He laid a hand on the guard's shoulder. "I don't know what she's saying but she attacked him, I think," the guard told him.

Now, Hvitserk hadn't paid close attention to learning languages, and a million different phrases passed through his mind. He could understand her saying 'please', but her accent was too strong. "Stop. What… is this?" he tried, and the young woman stared at him for a long moment. He could sense she was frightened, and held her cheek in pain.

Hvitserk looked at the guard. "You hit her?"

"Well, yeah. She was reeling off like a fox. I told her to get back inside..." He shrugged.

Ubbe had his thumbs in his belt when he approached and tilted a head at Avery. He looked to Hvitserk, then the guard. "I told her we wouldn't harm her or the holy man. Now look what you have done." He glared at him. "She's supposed to be helping us but that doesn't happen with fear." He sucked in a large breath. "She tell you what happened?"

"Her dialect is too strong, I don't understand what she's saying." Hvitserk kicked at the dirt. "I'll leave this to you."

"Do you agree with me?" Ubbe asked suddenly, his eyes burning holes through him. It had been an ongoing discussion Hvitserk couldn't solidly answer, and it made it more prominent now that Hvitserk stood near her, face to face.

"Using the Christian girl? I think it can work. It worked once. But for how long..." He grimaced slightly. "I also see she has a pretty face, Ubbe. So after this plan, I hope you know what to do with her. Otherwise, after, you leave her for the wolves. She probably has two to three Keeps or monasteries before word gets around." He meant it in earnest and nodded before taking his leave.

Ubbe studied Avery quietly for a moment. "Where are your furs?"

Avery peered to the ground, then motioned inside the tent. It had Ubbe kissing his teeth with a few steps that seemed to be in great disdain. He disappeared inside the tent and came back out after mere seconds, brandishing the furs Benedict had stolen.

"He said we should sleep next to each other for warmth. That we should keep each other warm. I didn't know he meant it. And he went through with it, but while I was trying to sleep," she spoke quickly, becoming muddled for a perfect reason why she shouldn't be put back inside there with him. It angered her that she had been so gullible. "He's afraid, I know. He's in pain. I looked up to him, but he's a coward. Please don't-"

"Avery, cowards are the most dangerous." He spared Benedict one last glance. "And I'm learning so are women."

"Good," she said weakly, crossing her arms protectively. Ubbe stood contemplating her for what seemed like a lifetime, making her anxious. "What?"

"I'm getting tired of saving you. I'm trying to see what use you are if you are continuously making trouble."

"Should I have just laid there for him and not say a word?"

Ubbe shrugged. "A normal slave would have. I expected you to at least 'kill him in his sleep'," he mocked, and she rolled her eyes at the quip. "A normal slave would also be in my bed," he continued, stunning her into silence. "And not even in this situation." Ubbe took a step forward but she didn't move. "What do you say?"

"I was right." Avery frowned, leaning back while he was smiling. "You are all animals wrapped in leathers."

"Ah, worth an ask, huh?"

"No, it really wasn't."

Ubbe rolled out his shoulders with a groan. "What do I do with you? What do you suggest? It's getting late and I'm tired. Tomorrow will be a busy day. We have friends joining us soon to make an unimaginable force for church men and little Christian women like yourself. But, instead I'm stuck here, looking for middle ground with you. And by the looks of it, a woman who bites the hand that feeds her."

"I'm not The Dog here-" She barely finished as he grabbed each side of her face, keeping her steadily in front of him, eye for eye. They both rocked under Ubbe's temper, his nostrils flaring while he tried to maintain control.

"It is enough now, Avery," he spoke slowly. "It is not a game. I am not making jokes with you. You have a quick tongue, I will say that. But it won't do you any good."

Having spent time with him and finding him not all that frightening, right now she was terrified. Because she saw things reflect back from his eyes; anger, pain, loss - it oozed off of him.

Ubbe's grip was enough to send the message, his stance a last act before he striked. She was beginning to realise he was right. Without him no one really cared. If she didn't try to be amicable, it would make things worse. Then perhaps Benedict's treatment would become hers, and it would all be her own doing.

"I'm tired too," was all she could say. And the moment she did, he relaxed his grasp, running a thumb underneath the nick on her skin.

"Let's clean this."

* * *

Ubbe had a tender touch. He'd cleaned her face himself by the large fire, alone as most had retreated to their tents. And it was a strange serenity she couldn't admit to herself. At first, she had sat in defeat, watching him dampen a rag, then it shifted to exhaustion, then a perfect still within her mind and body sat warm with the fires glowing, beneath a starry night.

"You have a lot of scars," she whispered over the fizzle and occasional pop from the flames.

"I've been in many battles."

"You aren't ashamed of them?"

Ubbe frowned. "Why would I be? It means I am brave. That I fight for my people… myself."

Avery peered to the ground. "Does it make it different if you don't receive them in battle? When you are the victim?"

His hand halted with the rag lifting to her face and he sighed. Ubbe knew she spoke about herself by the way her eyes shifted to anywhere but him. "It makes it no different. For healing, you are brave. Whether you heal here," he pointed to the scar near his eye, "Or here," he pointed to his heart.

Avery had unshed tears, turning her head away from him. "I would like to go to sleep now."

Ubbe silently nodded. She stood up before him, her dress rustling behind her when she ducked down into the tent appointed to Ubbe. Inside it was larger than she expected and far more civil than the small tent she had to share with Benedict. She took a place upon discarded furs which did not appear to be where Ubbe should sleep himself, and curled up into a foetal position.

* * *

Morning had passed and it was already midday when Avery was disturbed by someone entering the tent. She sat up, still groggy after a much needed rest. It was the old man from the cart, at least in his sixties, but by the looks of his physic still completely able. A large bucket sloshed when he made his way over, and he pointed to it once he had placed it in front of her. "Hreint."

"For me?" She gestured to herself for emphasis.

"Yes… yes." He seemed happy and smiled for the first time. "Heitt." Avery had no idea what he was saying, so he enacted it by pretending to touch it and hissing. "Heitt."

"Hot?"

"Yes… yes." He laughed a wheeze. "Me, Asger." He began humming, pretending to wash quite dramatically. He looked so strange Avery snorted suddenly after trying not to laugh the second he began.

"Thank you, Asger."

"Yes… yes." He disappeared out of the entrance in half a dance, leaving her still with a smile and shaking her head at what could easily pass as a dream.

Listening out for distant noises, she bit her lip considering the opportunity. Throwing off the furs around her, she stripped back her clothing and loosened the ties of the dress and pushed the arms to her elbows, revealing a cotton undershirt. There was a rag in the bucket and she made quick work, scrubbing the important areas, lastly dipping her feet. It was only when she began that an aroma kicked up from the steam - floral, a little mint - and she took a deep, content breath.

"Stulka, you are alone for the afternoon. Stay close-" Ubbe missed a step, halfway to his unmade bed. Upon an array of furs she stared up wide-eyed and caught, slowly covering her breasts. He made an exaggerated effort to turn away, giving her a view of just his broad shoulders. "Excuse me. I didn't think. I left my sword..." he rushed, almost flipping everything off his bed until he found it and revealing his weapons hiding spot.

"It's okay." She wrung out the rag and placed it on the side, tying her dress quickly. "You can turn around."

"I just wanted to tell you to stay close. Don't bother visiting Benedict. I don't know when I'll be back." Ubbe appeared like he may leave it at that until he stopped by the entrance, half holding the material open. "And, remind me to tell you about Freya when I return." Avery frowned and watched him disappear.

The distant noises outside got louder just when she finished getting dressed, something sizzling, and the smell drifted deliciously into the tent. The scent drew her away from safety. She lifted the flap that was her shield by the entrance and peeked through to the fire and the space around it beginning to fill up with men. The occasional clinking and grunt were from two jousting much further away. The low mumble grew, their language overpowering. A carcass roasting on a large spit made her mouth water.

She crept out, linking her fingers in front of her for courage. It was no use and she almost ran back inside because everyone turned to look at her with ferocious eyes and hungry snarls.

"...Hello."

Nobody replied. A man supervising the carcass chopped his axe down into it, carving a slab, then bit into it, chewing savagely. They were all watching and waiting for her next move. If she ran away to hide they would be smug, laughing. If she stayed, they appeared like they might put her on the spit and be feasting on her flesh next. Subtly - or not quite so - this felt like they were testing her.

But, they also didn't know anything about Avery. She sucked in a breath, kept her composure, and approached. Time seemed to stand still while the guys on the sitting logs checked her over, then reservedly made room for her. The chatter picked up again, and Avery finally breathed out once she sat down. Eyes flickering to and fro but much more comfortable since the pressure was laid off, she wiped her sweating palms inconspicuously across her skirt. Asger crept over, slipping in the slot beside her with a friendly smile, and gave her a piece of meat.

* * *

Ubbe roamed over the area in front. The three of them - him, Hvitserk and Hendrick - sat leisurely on their horses. Hendrick was now far quieter than he was before, a permanent scowl upon anything.

"We raid here next," said Ubbe finally. "We will also rest here after, greet the others who are joining us under a sturdy roof. Good work, brother. You were right. This is the best option for us."

Hvitserk grinned to himself. "Hey Hendrick, what are your thoughts? Or did you lose your brain through your feet working last night?"

"You and me were both in charge," he spat viciously.

" _You_  were appointed by Ivar. But it is obvious you are not capable." One of the horses grunted, and Hvitserk checked Ubbe beside him who remained passive before continuing. "Now we are here, I think we can agree that it is Ubbe, then me now, after your failure, who leads this task."

Hendrick began to seethe in his saddle but didn't dare to disagree.

Ubbe tugged his reigns, twisting his horse back around as the other two followed. "And if word should reach Ivar with unfavourable stories, I know who I'm coming for," Ubbe said, glancing at Hvitserk in agreement. "I'm willing to let this issue lie. Ivar would have wanted me to kill you for an example."

Hendrick's face was red. "Why didn't you?" he snarled across.

"Because Hvitserk likes you."

Hendrick cursed at them, kicking his horse to move faster. When out of earshot, the brother's laughed.

* * *

"Mitt nafn... er Avery," she tried, sat with her legs crossed upon the sitting logs with Asger in front of her. "Hvao heitir pu?"

"Me, I am Asger," he spoke back in her language very jarringly, but happy. Her interest in their language was spiked, exhorbing everything he said.

"Again," said Avery, holding out her hand where he named from her fingernails to her elbow, counted her fingers and thumb, touched the grass, pointed to the sky. He finished with a strange song he sung quietly.

"You, Avery," he motioned to sing.

"No, no, no. Asger sing." And he did, loudly, making her laugh.

A crash from some type of pottery sounded and a horse stomped up to them. Asger jumped up and fled at the sight of Hendrick dropping down from the horse. He gripped Avery's arm, yanking her up and out of the calm bubble she'd created with Asger, and then took her place.

"Get me some food," he demanded. "And drink. Now!"

She stood in shock, then promptly went to the spit, being served meat that she took to him. He snatched it greedily from her. Avery searched out the flagon she'd seen earlier and brought it to him, ready to make her leave when done with the task. As she turned, he grabbed her arm and yanked her back again.

"I'm not finished with you. Sit." He was rough, dragging her down to sit next to him. Life carried on around them, like they dared not intervene. "You want to learn our language? What do you want to learn it for?" He took a large gulp, some spilling from the corners of his mouth, and ending with a contented sigh.

"I didn't see any harm-"

"Any harm?" Hendrick raised his eyebrows, his voice a little higher. "There are things not meant for you to hear."

"I can't learn a language in a day." Avery flinched back when he threw the empty flagon into the flames.

"You still think you're tough, don't you? So very quick to be smart tongued around those who will kill you." Hendrick grinned as she unsurely glanced away then back to him. "Oh, you thought you might live? I hate to bring bad news, but once The Dog is done with you, I will have you on your back. Or, maybe I will just take you from behind." He shrugged, biting into the meat. "Then I will put my hands around your throat and watch the life drain from you slowly. Maybe I will put my cock in your mouth after, less worry about teeth. Take it as a little compromise over the scar you have given me." He kept her eyes, seeing the burn of defiance shine from them. "Go ahead. Say what you want to. Make my day."

Avery knew better, remembering what Ubbe had said, and went to stand up instead. He grabbed her wrist, holding her in place when the voice she knew so well broke the hostility. Ubbe wasn't speaking to them but it was audible in the distance, enough time for Hendrick to smile toothily and make his leave. Avery rubbed her wrist and looked around to see Asger close by, the only person to hear what he had said but not understand a word of it.

"Hares!" Ubbe exclaimed, standing proudly with his hands on his hips, staring down at his catch. Five hares strung together were thumped onto the log beside her. "Not a lot of meat on them but they taste good. Cut here," he began drawing an invisible line half way on the back leg, then a triangle across the torso. "And here, and the skin will come off easier. I will show you the first one and then you can-"

Avery suddenly stood up and left halfway through his sentence, disappearing inside the tent.

Hvitserk's laughter was cheerful. "Perhaps she doesn't like hare, brother. Or, your catch was too disappointing for words!"

Ubbe growled under his breath, unsheathed his knife and began to work the skin off the hare that came off in one strip, then threw it at him.

* * *

They'd packed the cart to look like Avery had goods. She was to ride to the gate in the dark with the back filled with Viking men hidden underneath cover. She lead the trojan horse.

Ubbe had signalled for the remaining group to flank the cart, sneak towards the Keep they intended to obtain. Avery could only think about how many people would die now. No one could live if the Vikings were insistent on occupying it. And no matter how much she told herself not to think of it like that anymore, it crept back in. She wished she could zap some of the heathens powers of being selfish. But then she was conflicted with herself, that she was technically being selfish too; with the right to live, to abide by their rules, and do as they say then she may see another morning.

She'd also begun to question how much she cared for Benedict. After that night where he decided to take advantage with the notion of 'warmth', she wasn't quite as bothered for his well-being anymore. And Hendrick, she'd never wanted someone dead so longingly, that this Keep would be his last, and the good news would reach her ears that he was taken out - maybe he would suffer…

What was becoming of her in such a short space of time?

She hyked herself up to the front of the cart and held the reigns, feeling the sway as the occupants boarded. Ubbe with his confident stride approached, leaning forwards to speak up to her. "You know what to do," he said, more confirming, a spark in his eye for what was about to happen.

"I get them to open the gates. And pray that I might live..."

"You're doubting me?" His voice came off a little gruff, tilting his head and licking his lips. "I've proved that you are safe when you follow the rules." Avery had trailed off as he spoke, watching Hendrick approaching smuggly with a secret smile for her, and that, he didn't miss; a groan of understanding humming in his throat that he hoped she didn't hear.

"I'm ready," she said eventually. With his hesitancy to move she finally looked at him, and Ubbe was prompted to climb up the cart beside her, taking cover directly behind, and completely hidden by the stack of cloth and furs once he ducked down.

"The God's favour us on this day," he whispered. "That is one thing I don't doubt." His fingers were hooked over the divide of the seat and lingered by her back; the heat from a woman, a feeling he longed for. With battle incoming his senses were alive. "Go."

The cart jolted into motion, a steady pace, out into the open of the dark night while Avery tracked the stars hovering above her. They weren't far from the gateway when Avery inconspicuously whispered back to Ubbe, "I prayed that you may live too…"

* * *

It was the next day the convoy of Vikings Ubbe had mentioned arrived. The once prim, beautiful fortress Avery had driven the cart to on the whispers of hope to stay alive, crawled with them now. It was not a pulled together bunch of animalistic raiders, but an army of them. A growing army.

Avery had had the grace of sleeping in a room similar to Benedict's in the new Keep they'd taken, but not much until the early morning by the time the rest of the domestic following of Ubbe's raiders had arrived and set up. When they rose, it was into the afternoon, and along came the others.

If Avery didn't feel the chill in the air, she would think she was living some decrepit nightmare. For when the evening struck, the Vikings celebrated their reunion, and loudly. The main hall may have been ripped to pieces in a battle - not that she could call it that - hours before, but in its place a temporary festivity had started. She watched from a distance, keeping herself tucked away from sight, the drinks being poured between them all, the food passed and thrown in jest.

_Animals in leathers_ , she thought.

Many times she had jumped from testosterone filled brawls. And now there were women dressed for battle that made Avery stare a little too long, more than she really wanted to. The women stood their own ground, nothing like she had ever seen before.

Whoever ran the late joiners, sat leisurely draped across a chair with a decorated back and large coils at the arms usually meant for the Head of the Keep or a visiting Earl on occasion. He was older, and drunk, and had brought slave girls much to the delight of the men.

Avery probably could have snuck back to the quarters and curled upon her borrowed furs for the night. However, she was too fearful to be left alone, and with the amount of bodies and random faces, not everybody could be accounted for. So she stood, back against the wall under the shadows of a wooden balcony that ran parallel along the room and lead off to the sleeping quarters, watching the people around her.

Her sights fell upon the guy who had initially helped her with Benedict and the guard, the one who had spoken softly, trying to speak her mothering tongue. Though he was surrounded by beautifully - and in her opinion, strangely braided haired women with dark makeup - his interests only laid on one. One he would subtly watch from across the room, frowning down into his drink like he was trying to gather the courage and failing.

_At least_ , she thought,  _that there is a piece of them still human_.

Like there was a piece of her, something raw, deep down inside as she touched the long drape of her dress, then studied the form of the women held above slaves - equals. A longing of being worthy.

"If you wanted a new dress we now have plenty."

Avery snatched her hand away from her thigh and put them behind her back, shaking her head at Ubbe. "No." She sounded rude and continued, "...But perhaps soon." He seemed more casual, the strings of his shirt loosened and without the boggy leathers he wore to battle the previous night. An alcohol blush lightly dashed his neck and cheeks, and from a long rest, he was brighter than usual.

He held up a mug for her to take and she did, smelling it first before sipping it. The sweetness made her jaw ache and she couldn't help pulling a face. Through it all, she saw the way the slave girls, the prettiest and in fine wears for status, watched him. It drew unwanted attention to her safe place.

"You think it's wrong to celebrate like this?" he asked after a moment.

"I was actually watching the slaves." She looked anywhere but him, an undesired shyness. "And why I am not forced to do what they are doing."

"You've done more than many of them can. They are taken by the fact their work lies between their legs after they serve their drinks. Especially since they are here, following men ready for battle."

Avery scoffed incredulously.

"What? You don't think it's true?"

She frowned into her cup, uncomfortable with his unabashed use of words and ran a finger along the brim absent-mindedly. "I don't know."

"Believe it or not, most enjoy it. They embrace it even." He shrugged and nursed his drink. "It's not seen as a sin." He tilted back on his heels and looked down upon her confidently. "You're in a Viking's world now, Avery from Northumbria."

Avery drank more, almost finishing her cup, and looked him up and down when it didn't seem like he was going to leave anytime soon. He was invested in their conversation, however strange. "You're okay with the slave girls work then, ooh bear, The Dog?" her voice rang prettily, a slight sense of muse.

"I'm not against it if she's willing. Especially after battle."

"Well." She leant back against the wall clumsily, the alcohol from the drink tingling. "Warn me before I stumble upon something tonight." Ubbe smirked at her defence, lowering his chin slightly. "And don't say I'm a slave again, if so. It's insulting."

"Stulka, I'm not here to insult you. What would be the point?"

"Like all my answers with anything to do with you, I don't know." Over his shoulder a blonde slave girl approached and offered to refill their drinks. She bowed her head deeply to Ubbe, sickenly submissive with all the intentions to capture his attention. Avery couldn't believe her eyes. "She's willing," she motioned with her cup.

Ubbe grinned in amusement, watching the slave leave before getting closer. "You're not hungry or cold anymore?"

"No. I'm well." She began to slowly straighten with his proximity, flinching when he reached out to the scabbed over cut on her cheek.

"I won't hurt you." His thumb was featherlight, and if she didn't see it she wouldn't believe he'd touched her at all. It only left her with an unquiet stomach, peering down to the ground. "Nobody bothers you?"

A hint of suspicion drifted along his question. But regardless of what he meant, Avery scoffed and shook her head, opting to play with her skirt in distraction before meeting his eyes. "No, ooh bear," she tried.

"Avery, stay with me tonight."

She smiled in bewilderment. "We sleep in the same room already, and I'm here with you-"

"No. Lie with me… tonight." He bit his bottom lip, trying to rephrase his bluntness. "I feel every conversation I've had with you is like continuously going into battle. After last night, I have thought about nothing since."

He waited for her to answer and all she could do was stare back dumbfoundedly. "...What?"

This was more than unexpected. While she thought nothing of his attention other than a mere convenience, his had grown wildly. Her pulse began to race, her cheeks burning. Was this how men in their culture courted a woman? They openly asked to lay with a random woman they desired?

Ubbe must have sensed her panic and stepped impossibly closer. "I saw you at the farm. I saw you in my tent. And I'm not sorry."

Avery still couldn't find words. She felt her mouth hanging open in shock, the wall behind her now as support more than anything. "No," she said, finding her voice. "No, I will not."

"A shame." Ubbe downed the rest of his drink, he looked her up and down for a moment, contemplating his next words. He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "A shame you can't see past your innocent conditioning your church men give you," he almost growled. "You can't see what you are missing. We don't shame others for wanting pleasure, Avery."

She gulped and firmly she reinforced, "I said no."

To her surprise he smiled. "Fine." It came out soft and he stepped away from her. "But maybe one day, once your head clears, you will want to, huh?"

"I don't-"

"Know?" he finished for her with an air of disappointment. "Let me know when you do. I'm good at many things other than just swinging a sword and raiding." Ubbe left without another word, clapping someone on the shoulder he passed in the crowd and joined the table with what she assumed was his brother, leaving her mind reeling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes off straight from last weeks chapter. Avery has a lot to think about. It takes time to adapt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! *waves* I'm back! Thank you for all those still following and commenting such amazing things and in so much depth, so much love! There was a problem uploading last weeks chapter, I have no idea why. I'm not very good with this site. But I fixed it and I pray this one goes through smoothly otherwise it just confirms my denseness.   
> Enjoy!

The Dog Chapter 7

The sweet drink in her hand was addictive, and for the first time, Avery felt uncaring, not anxious as usual. The same slave girl kept returning to refill her cup, to the point Avery began stopping her when she passed for more. The room grew rambunctious, louder, people falling where they stood dead asleep.

Avery's world became singular. An unfocused zoom in and out when she concentrated hard enough. And that's when she felt that it was time to leave. It made her suddenly unwell, not the fun, happy tingling she once had. She fled for the stairs, holding onto the bannister, and taking them one at a time. She would alternate between peering behind her and holding her head as her vision danced. Flashes of faces, eyes, mouths open wide and laughing. The second floor appeared like it warped from left to right. Noises, strange noises, that grew louder when she reached the sleeping quarters. The doors were open, bodies writhing, women naked and lying with men. Shadows of people gathered in the corridor, and she passed, noticing how they stared away from their kisses and whispered towards her.

It had the warmth and appearance of a sinful Hell, but not the identity, because it was a twisted love instead.

She stumbled and eventually found the door she recognised, turning the handle. But she wasn't alone. Candlelight flickered and she stood with her back to the door for a moment, a voyeur to two, her eyes glued to the way the muscles moved on the man's back as he thrust slowly into a slave who was watching her. Lazily the girl reached out, the man unaware, towards Avery.

Too drunk, Avery stumbled to where she had slept previously, landing ungracefully among the throws.

She stared up with the sway of drink in her mind, whispering, "It's not ooh bear," and found she was strangely relieved.

* * *

Morning arrived too quick to Avery's dismay. Rays of sunshine broke into the room from the smallest opening of a window. It burned into her face, across her eyes, and it was evil, painfully dosed with reality. She stretched, dozily peering towards bodies occupying the bed, an arm fallen from the side.

"It wasn't a dream," she spoke quietly, checking to see if she really was awake now. From outside voices echoed, clunking, chopping more specifically. It didn't rouse the two still tightly entwined in the slightest, and Avery found it fair to make her leave without disturbing them.

She covered her shoulders and made her way back through the now empty corridor, out onto the second-floor platform where she could see the great hall in a much calmer state. They were obviously feeling the effects of last night too as most ate quietly. She got to the top of the stairs and a slave girl from the tables rushed up to meet her.

"Avery?"

She eyed her with suspicion and nodded. Her throat was so dry she had to clear it. "Erm… Yes."

"I am Indra. Come with me." Indra took her hand and led her back towards the quarters. They entered a room at the furthest end, being welcomed into what seemed like a sauna. The fireplace was stacked to capacity, pots boiling and steaming, and women, some of those dressed like warriors. The slave girls combed their hair, washed their feet and helped dressing them.

Too busy staring at the room, Avery had not noticed that Indra had snuck behind her. Pulling the throw from her shoulders, arms around her to untie her dress, she was respectful but fast, already yanking the heavy fabric off and down to her undershirt.

"Take it off, Avery. We will wash it for you."

She complied and Indra pulled at her clothes until she was bare, standing in a room full of washing women with only her hands for cover. She watched in misery as her clothes, her sole belongings, were slung into the water, knowing how long they would take to dry.

Indra watched her standing in awkwardness, spoke quickly in their tongue to a girl crouching next to her, and dried her hands on her skirt. "You think this is strange?" she asked while approaching.

Avery noticed she had pretty eyes, blue as the sea, hair golden like the light hitting wheat in the summer. Then it struck her, she recognised Indra as the one Ubbe's brother had been staring at. "I won't lie. It is, a little."

Indra walked around her slowly, touching her dark hair that hung to the middle of her back, her arm littered with goosebumps, stopping at a scar along her hip. "You are our Christian girl. You are not what I thought."

"You speak well," said Avery, eyes following her scouring.

"Of course." Indra smiled, slipping her hand into Avery's and coaxing her to a vacant tub. "It is ready."

The water was warm, fragrant, a relief for her foggy mind. She let Indra wash her, closing her eyes to the calming sounds from around the room.

"They speak of you with great words. And I don't doubt that there will be a tale of your pledge with us Vikings."

"I didn't pledge to anybody," Avery snapped. "I was forced. Like you are forced to-"

"Do not let anger steal your tongue. I am not forced and willing to serve under our rightful princes, to take a land to grow a Kingdom. I have my own mind." Indra squeezed the rag and then began cleaning her neck. "I don't speak harshly, I speak the truth only." Indra looked towards the door, smiling at the girl entering with women's clothing and waved her over. "New dresses for our Christian woman," Indra said and nodded at the other girl before she took her leave.

It surprised Avery greatly, almost to the point of suspicion. "You treat me too kindly."

Indra smiled to herself, tilting her head. "I am not the only one." Avery frowned and she giggled softly. "I was asked to help you this morning," she clarified. "I waited for you to rise. His description was very good."

"Ooh bear..." Avery guessed, almost whispering under her breath.

"Ubbe," she corrected quickly, meeting Avery's eyes finally, filled with mirth. "I see why you are so enchanting. Fiery, and sweet. I see it is real too. Is it true you scarred Hendrick, our greatest warrior?"

"And gladly," she said, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Indra giggled again, finding a jug to pour over her head. "There will be tales. Now, let us hurry. The water is growing cold."

* * *

A new dress, no matter how plain, held a sentiment to Avery. She remembered a time when she had to make do in literal rags before; torn and muddied until picked up by a Christian garrison. It felt heavenly in the clean robes, skin clear and lotioned with a mint ointment for various bruises she'd obtained along the way offering immediate relief.

Something she'd learnt is that Indra liked to talk - a lot. She somehow became her lingering other half, taking her to the hall to eat, translating conversations and including her. But Avery remained wrapped in upon her own thoughts. She rolled a crumb across the table and interrupted Indra's long drawl to another slave.

"Where's ooh bear?"

The other slave laughed and Indra tapped the girl on the shoulder before facing Avery. "You want to see him?"

"No," she lied. "I just wanted to know if he's… around." In a way she did, he was her sanctuary in this strange world of Vikings. Could she rely on their deal of safety if he wasn't there?

Indra's smile grew wider. "Well, my lady, today is your lucky day." She stood up and Avery frowned in confusion. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"Outside, of course." Indra linked her arm and pulled her up. "One thing we like to do after such long journeys and successful plunder is a game of sorts. Many games… Games that still help with battle. It is sometimes violent." Indra hummed. "Ubbe will be there, with our great Sandarr who led us safely across your land to join you." She pushed open one of the double doors out into the courtyard. There wasn't a breeze, barely a chill from the suntrap of the stone and fortified walls.

Avery half expected to see bodies littered, but there was nothing. And it was alive. The clunking was a man working with fire and steam. Groups of people gathered in conversation all around. Indra led her through them all, to the back of the main Keep, a grassed area, where a man-made ring encircled those sparring. To the side were recent opponents drinking, gesturing expressively with loud voices, small playful wounds being wrapped.

The sun stung her eyes as she looked up towards the wall, seeing it patrolled by Vikings now, casting glimpses down towards the jousting. The crowd roared, scaring Avery to a halt. Indra smiled her sacred smile and prompted her forward again.

Avery became anxious. "Indra, tell me what you meant by princes?"

"You heard that?" she said slyly. "My mistake. They are brothers of the King now. But it is a long story. I can still recite it for you if you so wish."

It only continued to confuse her further. "You talk of ooh bear and-"

"Hvitserk? Yes."

Avery almost bit her lip in self-loathing. She had known from the start there was something peculiar about their treatment, how they held themselves in their disheveled society. "Tell me more, a little more."

"Their youngest brother rules Kattegat, our home. He is Ivar, the boneless. He is the one most feared. There were five brothers. One is dead, killed by Ivar himself. The other, Bjorn, is missing. They say he fled to the Mediterranean. But who is 'they'? Such things can't be known."

"The youngest brother to rule is… " Avery tripped and Indra held her closer, continuing their slow walk towards a lean-to. "...Well, it's not how it goes."

"Usually no. It's a new world. The God's favoured Ivar and his army. Ivar spared Ubbe. And here we are today, stronger than ever. Is that what you mean by telling you 'a little'?"

"Spared him?"

"They had their differences, my lady." Indra peered over her shoulder at her, a slight hesitance. "Do not think too badly. It is the past."

"Okay," she agreed, trying to tame her mountain of questions, and opted for a different subject altogether. "Do you fight? Are you a warrior woman?"

Indra burst out laughing. "I am not a shieldmaiden. I am a translator, a slave, a lover."

"To who?"

"Many."

Avery almost choked and paled considerably. "Do they ask you to… you know, openly ask for permission to lie with you?"

"Yes," said Indra. "Do your men not ask?"

"We are usually husband and wife before  _that_." Avery kept her head down, recounting all the things she had learned with Benedict Biscop and as a child growing up in strict Christianity. "It is said that sex before marriage is sinful. That sexual immorality is sinful. Being husband and wife permits you to fulfil your passions in a moral way." She could almost hear him preach, word for word.

They finally stopped walking and Indra giggled with half the effort she had used before, shrugging her shoulders with a touch of pity. "What a funny story."

"It wasn't meant to be a-" Avery tried to rectify but was interrupted by a loud voice speaking to the crowd. A new round was starting in the ring, and as a parting cleared, she saw Ubbe with his brother and a few others. He had a drink in his hand, dirtied. He wore the leathers; straps crossing his chest, fixed around his arms, but not the usual tunic. There was a change to his usually relaxed stature. It was obvious he had been fighting and was animated, spirited from whatever game he'd participated in.

Indra brought them right up to his side, and he turned, a quirk at the side of his mouth when he saw Avery. "You have come to see Viking leisure, stulka?"

"I haven't seen much so far."

He wiped his mouth, watching as Indra let Avery go and slinked away. "No? That is a shame. I feel there is a lot of shame passing between us lately."

There was a rather silent moment that had Avery looking away to a roar from the ring, the sunlight bright but a sharp chill in the air that hit her face. "I have thought no more on it." She twisted her hands into the layers of her dress and finally met his eyes. "Last night I saw a lot of leisure."

"It's tradition to celebrate victories, however small."

"Tell me, do you pray for the people you kill? Are they seen as nothing?"

"We offer to the God's and they choose our path," he said just as sharp.

"And where's Benedict?"

Ubbe chuckled to himself. "You're like a storm coming from the sea, immediately angry when it sees the land. You should learn manners and patience. But as they say, roses have thorns." He went to turn away, and with Avery already kicking herself for being so rude - but torn, not wanting to accept she'd lost in the long haul, she reached out and stopped him.

"Ooh bear, I'm sorry." And she meant it, truly. "Everything is unfamiliar to me at the moment." She took a second to gather her thoughts. The fresh air helped, giving a sense of rawness she probably wouldn't have delved into under normal circumstances.

"With what I've seen, what happened to my village, I find it hard to turn the other cheek and forget it all. Everything is changing so fast, I feel like I can't breathe with a block of guilt stuck in my throat. That I can't think because my choices reject my religion. That I'm here, a Christian woman with the Northmen. I've eaten with them, I've bathed with them, I talk with them… I hate them. But a little less every day." Under her fingertips she felt the slickness from his skin; a sweat dusted with the dirt but didn't care. For the first time, she saw the bare skin of his arms closely; the indentation of defined muscle, veined, scarred.

"Therefore, I hate myself," she finished and let him go, realising how hard her fingers had dug into him and tried to smile. "And for some reason, I don't hate you. Well, at least, it's getting harder to every day." She felt a weight shift from her shoulders.

"I understand, stulka."

The crowd howled again, ending the match, and subtly ending their woes at the same time. Behind Ubbe, Avery could see Hendrick pumping himself up and flexing his arms, short sword in hand, making his way towards them. It must have been her reaction that had Ubbe turn. "Hendrick," he said in greeting.

"What do you say, Ubbe?" He spoke in her language specifically, so she could understand. "You want to go a round with me? Show them all that puppy training they had you do back in Kattegat?" He sneered an impossibly wide smile and caught Avery in his sights. "Well, look who scrubs up to reasonable standards. Quite impressive."

Ubbe bit his bottom lip, letting his head fall back as he eyed him, staying thoughtfully mute.

"Why don't we make it more interesting? I get you down, the Christian woman eats with me tonight at the hall. I think she wants that." He jutted the sword to indicate her and Avery stepped behind Ubbe, very much like she did the first time she met him.

"I will  _not_!" she hissed.

Ubbe stayed silently tense for a few long seconds. "Better get my sword," he said like it was any normal daily activity.

With Ubbe walking away with a confident gait, it left Hendrick to gloat at her. "Soon," he said, pinching a piece of her hair and pulling it, then taking off towards the ring, slapping his chest and warming up.

Indra reappeared and guided her away, walking to join the crowd where they had a better view. "I don't want to watch. I can't take the wait," Avery pleaded.

"One thing you should know, my lady. Hendrick is a mighty warrior, one of our best. But the saying goes 'Never fight Ubbe'."

Both warriors made their way to the middle, clinked their swords together, and Hendrick turned for cheers, raising his arms to be hailed. Ubbe stood calmly, looking over to Hvitserk who bellowed something. And it was at that moment Hendrick stormed towards him with his back turned. Ubbe just caught the sword, and Avery began to wonder if that amount of force was usual. She was sure that they  _could_  actually kill each other.

They scuffled for the most part, their actions growing far more meaningful. Ubbe caught Hendrick's arm with the blade and paused, a growl emitting from Hendrick's throat as he swung time and time again, pushing Ubbe to the outer circle. It seemed he knew his space was closing in, and went for the legs, disregarding the sword in his hand and tackled him, picking him up through the air and letting Hendrick thump to the ground.

Hendrick's sword clattered away and he got up. By all means, the match was officially over, but he ran at Ubbe, breathless, roaring as he did, and missed from a simple sidestep. The crowd laughed at Hendrick's mouth full of dirt, and men entered the circle, Hvitserk first, patting Ubbe on the shoulder and giving him a jug of ale which he downed on the spot, letting it spill down his chest as he shouted thickly to Hendrick with his arms out each side of him.

"What did he say?" Avery asked.

Indra was frowning, then a smirk rose on her face. "He said, 'she will not'."

A small sense of happiness fluttered in her stomach that she couldn't understand the meaning of. Here, she was a captive, being rough-housed into a Viking gathering; insulted, hurt, manipulated in so many ways. But yet, it was hard to retain a smile. Somebody fought for her, solely her with no other intentions than to keep her safe from the clutches of another. She couldn't remember when the last time was, if ever, that anyone had fought so valiantly, just for her.

"Do you want to stay a little longer? They will change to a different game now," said Indra over Avery's thoughts.

"Yes. Yes, I do." She felt exhilarated.

* * *

It was a far more civilised night. The games from the day having worn out the energetic blood and sending some to their beds early. There was a low hum from voices of those that were left, the Keep's main hall dim and people taking to vacant places calmly. The flames around the room glowed in arrays of orange and yellow, casting shadows along the walls. The great fire crackled softly in the background forming a pleasant temperature.

Avery had been listening to a conversation between Ubbe, Hvitserk, Indra, and a few faces she didn't know, not understanding a word but enjoying the interaction and animated way they talked. She could guess what they were saying, but that was all.

She witnessed Hvitserk finally shuffling closer to Indra the more the night drew on, to the point Indra was almost in his lap and involved in their own private conversation together. Avery's eyes began to droop when suddenly Hvitserk stood with Indra's legs curled around his waist and walked them up the large steps towards the sleeping quarters.

Ubbe chuckled and threw down some bread on the table. "Hump first, talk later."

Avery still had a bewildered expression, scoffing towards the table. She sat the same side as him, almost touching but not quite. He caught a passing girl, spoke quickly, then flicked his head for Avery to follow him. She did, noticing the light catching on the braids in his hair she hadn't noticed, assuming they were made earlier that day.

They entered their room where they had been sleeping, without any unexpected guests this time. Avery went to the furs laid out on the floor while Ubbe stepped up to the bed, disturbed by a slave bringing warm water and setting it down next to him. He pulled out his tunic from his pants and tugged it off, shedding his belt and boots. Avery pretended not to watch, unfastening her laces and kicking off her shoes.

He placed the bucket on a stand by the bed and cupped his hands, bringing them up to his face. As he moved his back rippled, donning the scars and marks, bruises of sorts. It was sensual in the fact that she'd witnessed something so similar the previous night, and it made it more clear in her mind to imagine it was him.

Ubbe used the rag to clean himself. And it took her a long time to pluck up the courage. She told herself it was expected, like the slave girls would, and didn't see any perpetual enticement from it. "Do you need help?"

Ubbe nodded and took a seat on the bed, leaving his legs wide and relaxed. Avery dipped the rag into the water and went to wipe the side of his face before he snatched her wrist. "Are you tricking me?" he asked.

"No." She kept his eyes for reassurance and then dabbed at the dirt covering his face. The tension eased when she wiped down to his chin, through his short beard, where he lifted his head and exposed his neck. Droplets ran down his chest and she caught them, feeling his eyes on her. Running the rag along his collarbone, over his shoulders, she suddenly felt a blaze of fire in her stomach; a memory from the past whizzed past, and she threw the rag in the bucket. "Okay, we are finished now."

Ubbe grabbed her wrist, a little gentler than before. "I feel you shaking. Whatever has happened to you in the past, Avery, will not happen again."

"The future is uncertain. Don't tell me lies to comfort me."

In a rush he stood up, fingers sliding into the back of her hair, forehead against hers. Her breath grew shallow, hands on his chest while they stumbled on the spot together in a wayward embrace. His actions signalled wanting, solace; hers, caution, fear.

Avery's mouth went dry and she swallowed, her voice coming out in the smallest whisper. "Do not pity me."

"Does this look like pity?" His voice was a low rumble in his chest.

She felt his breath on her face, making her hair dance, his thumb soothing. "Then forgiveness, because I am unsure." She stepped back, Ubbe releasing her without much resistance. "Your expectations of our arrangement seem to blind you."

"I don't have any expectations for you. And if I did, you've broken them."

" _I_ am your  _captive_." Avery held her forehead, arm tucked across her chest in frustration, pacing one or two steps back and forth.

Ubbe took a place back on the bed and gestured towards the door. "Then leave."

"I can't just-"

"Then forget the idea of being a captive. While we are on the subject - to be a lot clearer, take this -" From his belt discarded on the floor, he unsheathed a knife. "- and do your worst. Get revenge for all the bad things I have done to you."

The moment he put it in her hand, she let it clatter to the floor. What personal plight rather than striking a deal had he really done? And this deal they had bargained over, what care did she have for it anymore? Benedict sure wasn't on her list of high priorities. She had no one to fight for, to safe keep. And he was incredibly right before, Christian men didn't care. She didn't exist to anybody. Nobody would search for her. And so far, her prayers all remained unanswered.

"Go ahead," he prompted. "I have done a lot of bad things. You should kill me now before I do anything worse to this world. I could kill you? You better rid of me just to be sure." Avery could only stare, her body shaking. "Or, we could just...  _go to sleep_?" He pouted at her, shrugging. "And put this in the past with all the other things. Start over?"

Avery became more serious, crouched down to pick up the knife, holding it out in front of her as she slowly made the little distance between them. She got so close, she was able to hold it to the soft skin of his stomach until the point brushed against him, and he sucked in a quick breath.

"If I ran would you search for me?"

He flickered between her eyes, transfixed, slightly narrowing them before nodding, an emphasis on the words, "I would."

Avery laid the knife on the side next to the bucket, gathered her dress and climbed onto the bed, to the spare side. "Then we shall sleep," she said and covered herself with the furs.

* * *

It was a basement, dark in the depths of the old kitchens where they held Benedict. With Ubbe's permission, salted with distaste, he'd allowed Avery to go and see him. Last night had brought back many memories to her mind, and she needed to set some of the conflicted thoughts to rest.

The moment she entered, she found him half sat up against the furthest wall, blinking from the light. He began to crawl, with purpose, just making it to her feet before the ropes snapped and stopped him. He let his fingers curl around the end of her shoe.

Avery tried to keep her composure from the moment he looked up into her eyes. "Avery! Where have you been?" It was more of a demand than a question. And when she didn't reply straight away, he snorted. "Do I need to guess?"

"Father Benedict, my situation is an act upon my own person-"

"Don't even start with trying to rectify the wrong you have done, and are doing. What you should be doing is trying to free me. What use do they have?"

Avery took a deep breath, nodding for Indra to leave them, Ubbe running a hand over his mouth as he paced in the background. The guard outside closed the door for their privacy. "They won't free you. If I asked for it, they would more than likely kill you now. Your welcome is slim - slimming every day."

He grunted and fell back upon his painful feet, panting. "You  _must_  free me."

"How? How do you suggest I do that. Even if I could, I couldn't drag you. You can't walk."

"Don't mock me!" he roared, and Avery grimaced, looking at the door. "There will be justice. My fellow churchmen will not save you. Not if I had anything to say about it. I would order your execution; a punishment for all your wrong doings because God can't save you now you have run with the pagans. I would see you nailed, screaming for mercy like you should. You should be begging for mercy from God. And, as you have done, he will not heed you."

"God didn't save me." She crouched, spitting the words between her teeth. "I saved myself. I saved you! Don't talk about my abandonment!"

"Your mind is already poisoned," he said with mirth.

"This isn't about religion. I will not let you guilt me with it either. I came to see how you were, whether there was anything I could do - not that they want me to do anything for you. But you were so eager to damn my entire existence." She glanced at his feet. "I say good day, and advise you to start using your prayers to beg your feet don't rot from the bone. Because they smell like they are."

"God damn you!" Avery flinched back to a stand. "You're only in a better position because you have a cunt between your legs!"

Avery jumped from the door swinging open, and Ubbe stormed in, picking Benedict off the ground by his scruff and holding him against the wall. "I don't know why we waste our time with you."

"Stop!" Avery tried, grabbing his shoulder, but he shrugged her away. "Stop! I won't see him killed."

Benedict whimpered from the weight of standing on his feet. "Heathens," he coughed. "All of you."

Ubbe dropped him in a heap, grabbing Avery as he left, almost swinging her around. Indra followed far behind as they reached outside, where he spun her. "I've done what you've asked and you still see a reason to keep him here? After what he said?"

"I can't damn him like that."

"And we can't release him. Not only will he tell of what's happened. He will more than likely create rumours far worse. What hold does he have on you?"

She pulled her arm away haughtily, out of his grip. "I owe him my life."

"You've returned it. Now there is nothing for him. His feet can't be saved and they speak of amputation. What do you think he'd rather?"

"He's lost sight of hope. That is all."

"And what do you think will happen to him in years to come?"

It was a sudden stab to her chest. "Years?"

Ubbe sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "I was trying to create a time for you to think about. I don't know how long we will travel for."

"So there has been news? About what's happening?"

His posture eased. "We have moved upon East Anglia. The battle is continuing there as we speak. Another marches south. Do you not know the rumours reaching every part of your country?"

"I've always been kept far from it." Avery felt suddenly stupid. "And how would I know anyway apart from what you tell me?"

"As we move, a man decides it is the right moment to take his claim as King. King of England. To unite the lands, a Christian country, while fending off our army. This land lays in ruins." He paused, frowning. "In my eyes, it is a smart move." She didn't understand, about to ask before he continued, "Our war shows that the lands should be united, rather than Earl's and Lord's trying to defend their land individually."

"And Northumbria?"

"Will be ours," he said confidently.

Avery bit her lip, hair flicking against her face from the breeze. "And me?"

"You are mine," he said just as fiercely. "If that is what you decide. But in Viking rules, I have claimed you and shall do what I want with you."

She didn't know whether to be shocked or pleased or fearful, her blood rushing to her cheeks, bashful of his boldness. "Oh."

He sniffed and walked away. Avery's eyes settled on Indra who only smiled at her knowingly before she beckoned her to join her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A serious question. A surprise. And more storytelling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reception this story has received is incredible. Thank you all.

The Dog Chapter 8

Days turned to a week. The little interaction Avery seemed to have with Ubbe shriveled into mere wishes of goodnight before they turned their backs and slept. Or in some cases, nothing at all as he crept into the room in the late hours while she was asleep.

She watched him, and she would catch him watching her. The small smiles during mealtimes from across the hall, his soft eyes as they caught each other. One time she had to pass him before taking her leave to the chambers and he'd flipped her skirt. But that was all and before she could react, he continued his conversation with Hvitserk.

It seemed whatever plans were being forged sucked the life out of the Northmen, and especially Ubbe being called to run most of the skirmishes beyond the gates. Scheming until the dead of night with the other men. Sometimes she didn't even notice him coming to bed, or leaving in the early hours of the morning.

Avery had Indra for company on those long days. She participated in washing, drying, sewing - which she wasn't good at, all while seeing the transformation of the stock the Vikings collected; the restored weapons, mended leathers.

"You are doing very well, my lady," Indra had said, watching Avery's more than disastrous attempt.

"It's okay, Indra, you don't have to lie for the sake of it. I know I'm bad." She pulled too hard and lost the thread. It signified a break, and for the first time in twenty minutes Avery looked up to the rows of tables of the great hall which were occupied by slave girls mending, forming a by-hand production line.

"It is strange you don't possess such skills," Indra said with a frown.

"I was the eldest with an infant brother. My parents had only the one son with years between us. Therefore, it was my duty to help my father. I can close a wound, though, they don't have to look handsome..." Avery watched Indra sow, delicate hands, small and quick between each stitch. "Remember, I was very young. My mother took to mending while she stayed at home. She had troubles keeping a pregnancy. And all they ever wanted was more children."

"I'm very sorry." Indra paused and touched the back of Avery's hand lightly. "It is unmerciful we should be women and unable to hold a child. I pray to the Gods and wish it upon no one. It is hard enough being a woman as it is." Avery slipped her fingers between hers and smiled warmly. "What?" Indra questioned at the doting look.

"I've never told anyone that much about my past." In all honesty, she'd never had a good friend to relay anything to. Her childhood was occupied with her parents; watching the misery of loss from her mother, while her father pushed himself to breaking points trying to keep their small holding together. Then her village was raided, forcing her to walk the roads for a while. How long for she was uncertain, until ferried away to a Keep. She had been chosen as a prime possession to show how much Benedict had sympathy for the havoc created by the heathens, and to support his claims of kindness with a mix of only orphan girls.

"You can tell me anything you wish. I will not repeat it, I swear." The room was a swell of low noise, enough for them not to be heard.

"The scar on my hip I received during the raid of my village." Indra turned fully to face her, listening intently. "It is a reminder." She could still smell the smoke and warmth from the blaze as death claimed everything around her. It all seeped into her senses if she concentrated long enough.

_They'd hid in the rafters of the barn adjacent to their house, looking down upon the hay. But as the house burnt, the ashes caught the roof and it lit up to slowly creeping flames as well. They had only their clothes to cover their mouths, but her little brother began to cry as the fumes burnt his throat, his tears blackened as they ran down his cheeks._

_All three would burn if they didn't move. They had no choice but to._

_Her mother fled first, taking her younger brother in her arms._

" _Mother, wait! Wait for me!" The sheer desperation from her voice was shrill, piercing even._

_Avery had only half dangled to drop upon the hay when she heard the screams and lost her hold. And then she fell into the hands of the enemy._

"They cut my clothes from me," Avery breathed and closed her eyes, losing herself in the moment.

"My lady, if words are not ready, don't force them."

"The only reason they didn't touch me is because they found my mother first, and then made me watch. By this point my brother's body was already discarded by the buckets of my father's rain water. We may as well have been lambs to slaughter."

"Avery," Indra used her name this time to address her. What she didn't realise was that she was crying, tears falling down her face and marking the fine wood of the table. "Please, my lady, don't be distressed."

"Why was I to live?" Avery questioned. "I remember after, through the ash, children crying over their parent's bodies, an old man was blinded. Why?"

"It is the way of the Gods."

"There is only one God!" Avery snapped, her voice loud enough to cover the room and capture everyone's attention. It made her remember exactly where she was, what type of people she was talking to, quieting her anger. "And that reasoning isn't good enough for me."

Avery got up from the table, rushing towards the stairs for the quarters. Indra excused herself, entwined her hands together in front of her and followed in all her grace. Before Avery could disappear into the bedroom, Indra caught her arm. "It is a harsh world, I know."

"I'm blinded by this place. By these hidden depths in an old Christian Keep where hundreds of people perished. I sleep in their bed and I eat their food. I  _am_  what I have been afraid of for  _so_  many years." And Avery cried like she hadn't before. It wracked her body completely, and she felt hot, face red, wiping her tears furiously.

Indra stepped forward and took her in her arms for comfort, soothing her against her shoulder like a sister. "My mother used to say memories are like paper. You fold them up into tiny pieces, but in time they begin to unravel. Then you must decide what to do with them. Do you let them burn? Throw them to the wind? Or eat them so they can tear you apart from the inside out? You must choose."

Avery gathered her composure, nodded and stepped back. "It is just so hard."

"Then make it easier for yourself and forgive and forget. Live for those who can't. There is a reason for you being here, I know it. I've never known anything so sure."

* * *

Indra went on with her work after she had put Avery to bed. The hall was a lot quieter and she had her back to the large doors. She felt the draft but popped the needle through the fabric regardless.

Icy hands from the night slid upon her shoulder. "Hello, Hvitserk," she said without turning.

"You knew it was me?" He swung a leg over the bench and sat down with her between them.

"I can hear the way you walk, it doesn't take a genius."

"You are mocking me now?" He ran a hand up her thigh, up her body until he could knock away her work. She gasped in surprise, but he had already turned her to face him forcibly. "I've had a long day and would like to go to bed with you."

"I'm not going anywhere until Ubbe is back. It is my purpose." His fingertips caressed the side of her face, a small nudge to meet his lips. "Hvitserk!"

"What? You could sit on me here and nobody would notice," he said, tugging her. She merely massaged her fingers into his shoulders, up his neck and stopped.

"I have corrupted you in such a short while. Who knew the amount of confidence you secretly possess…"

She wasn't having any of it, and eventually he eased back on the thought. "Where is the problem Christian girl anyway?"

"She is asleep. And she isn't the problem, it is your dick talking." He dug his fingers into her side and she giggled. "She was not happy today. I think she feels like she is betraying everything she knows."

"She is," said Hvitserk nonchalantly, and Indra hit him. "I meant to say, no wonder. At least it is for the right cause now."

Indra narrowed her eyes. "Of course."

"We need her in a few days. We've scouted out a rich looking threshold full of virgin ladies."

"Oh really? Have fun with them, you won't be having any here in that case." He grabbed her again and she laughed, falling into his kiss. "You can make up for it tonight with that thing you do," she purred suggestively.

* * *

"Avery," a voice pierced through her dreams. "Avery, wake up." She opened her eyes to the room doused in daylight. Ubbe sat on her side of the bed, dressed and looking like he was about to leave. "I'm riding this morning, but I will be back for the afternoon. You know, in case you were missing me much."

"I don't miss you," she said a little too harshly, words wrapped thickly with sleep, and she sat up, covering herself with the furs because she now slept in just thin cotton rather than her day dress. "I mean, I don't think I will."

"Have I startled you?" he asked, barely scathed from her honesty.

"A little." She flattened her hair, lips puffy, eyes still unfocused. "I think I have slept a long while."

"You have. It is good." He roamed over her for a second, taking a deep breath. "Perhaps you want to ride with me? Get away from the Keep for the morning. The seasons are changing." She didn't reply straight away so he continued, "I can't promise much entertainment than a few hares, a deer if we are lucky." He got up and held out his hand. "And I'll tell you the about Freya."

"Hunting?"

"I wouldn't really call it that. Riding. I want to check the forest. Two things at once." When she reached to take a hold of his hand, he impatiently went the distance. Watching two pale legs slip out of the furs while her night clothes were caught up in them, he noticed that it was practically see-through. He could see her breasts, letting his eyes drop to the ground.

Avery pulled at the neckline nervously. "You've seen me before."

"I have,"he said curtly, swallowing.

"Then it is nothing new." She passed by him to the vacant chair with her clothes slung over. Though her heart raced and her breath grew shallow. She hesitated briefly as she ruffled up the end of her night dress to pull it over her head.

"You're right," his voice was rough and low as he came up behind her. He took over from where her hands were, and slowly pulled the thin material up while she lifted her arms above her head. The faintest touch ran the length of her body and goosebumps broke out across the trails of skin in his wake.

Her shallow breath turned into pants once he rid of the thing entirely. As he shadowed behind her, she gripped the back of the chair until it stung. She felt the heat of him, heard his leathers as he went to touch her bare back, and she shut her eyes in anticipation.

"My lady, I-" Indra almost tumbled on the spot with a heavy bucket in her hand, one leg still up from kicking the door open, her eyes wide at the scene in front of her.

Finally Avery glanced at Ubbe over her shoulder, trying to gather how he felt by his reaction. "I'll wait outside," he all but said, taking off with the sound of his boots hitting the floorboards and grasping the hilt of his sword tightly, passing Indra who bowed her head until he was gone.

Indra watched Avery put a hand to her mouth and fall into the chair. "My lady, my lady, what's wrong?" She was at her side in an instant, crouching in front of her, trying to see if she had a temperature or injury.

"Nothing… I…" Her breath was still short, and she wet her lips, tugging the old night dress across her lap. "I wanted him to touch me..." She felt stupid from the moment it slipped from her mouth, pushing back the hair falling into her face hung with shame.

"Well, you want to know what I think?" Indra asked all too cockily, a smart know-it-all look about her. "I think he may have wanted to touch you too. And I will admit, I want to touch you as well, as we are talking about it." Avery gave her a concerned frown. "You know what, don't worry. The water grows cold. Ubbe is waiting."

* * *

Ubbe was right, something different was in the air. Daisy's littered the open fields, bright yellow daffodils, some still fighting to open. The sun may have been out on a cloudless day but it was still cold, as though it could shift back into full winter at sundown.

She sat in front of him upon the horse. From the moment he insisted, it had annoyed her. "…I should have had my own horse."

"You killed the last one." She felt him shrug from behind, his concentration not fully on her. "Couldn't take the risk."

They rode further on, through the trees, an endless forest. It wasn't dense, nor dark like some previous ones they had ventured through, but light, an array of colours almost shimmering. "I miss the sea. I miss the sea air, that certain scent. Inland is so-"

"Flat?" he interrupted.

Avery muffled her laugh. "It's not all flat. It's just not as pretty, and quiet. The sea is deafening from time to time, never silent. That's all I was going to say."

"I don't know if I could say the same," he spoke more to her ear and it had her flinch towards him, noticing how close he was. "I've seen pretty things since I arrived."

She blushed, peering down to the ground. "Can we stop?"

Ubbe pulled the horse to a halt, and she slipped down, her shoes soft on the earth. Through the gaps in the top of the trees, it left spots open for patches of flowers, and she crouched down with an inquisitive frown. "It's early for bluebells."

"Spring is spring, it does what it likes." He followed her, an avid observer, a predator stalking prey, dropping down behind her from the horse as she held up the front of her dress and walked between the pockets of sunlight. Avery would stop every so often and pluck a flower, or a particular piece of greenery, a smile gracing her face and eyes brilliant. "I will tell you of Freya now…"

She glanced away from the flowers with slight curiosity for only a brief moment. "Why is it important you tell me?"

"Because she is the Goddess of beauty. Knows the meaning of self-worth to the point she is forceful… I believe she taints my vision with you." He crept closer, soundlessly. "I see it, time and time again." Tightly squeezing the butt of the knife, he willed himself to have the guts to go through with the one sole purpose of why he had tempted her away from the Keep.

"I am cursed?" She frowned over to him, a change in her tone of voice, blind to his confliction.

"Not at all, stulka." Ubbe couldn't help but grin. "But I am."

She had a skip to her step when she stood and passed through the trees, brandishing a hand-picked bunch of early flowers. While in his grasp, he had the cold, hard weight of metal.

She admired her find, happy in that moment. "What is her story? Is it similar to the one you hummed?"

Ubbe struggled with his intentions, sniffing and wiping his face. "She was a lover of beautiful things. It's said she went beyond the border of her Kingdom and fell for the beauty of a necklace crafted by dwarfs. She was taken with it, so much so, that she agreed to lie with the dwarfs in exchange for the necklace for there was no better treasure than her that could cover the cost."

"Just to lie with her was enough?" Avery questioned, head tilted in thought.

"Yes, her price was her love. It is known that she was a lover to all the God's. She sees no shame in lust. And no man or God could resist her..." he drifted off, shifting from one leg to the other, squaring his shoulders.

"How powerful she must have been. Everything always seems to come down to temptation, in one way or another."

He gritted his teeth and stepped closer.

But her eyes were still focused on the flowers in her hand. "Now I feel bad for picking them." She turned to look at the remaining ones on the ground. "They are so beautiful, that I couldn't resist." She bent down to stroke one gently with her finger. "And now I have killed them."

Ubbe silently kissed his teeth and looked to the sky. There was not a sound around them, as though the Gods were watching them, isolating the both of them from this world.

"And what is your story, ooh bear?" she asked, piercing his thoughts and stood up. "You have so many and don't tell your own." She turned to Ubbe and sensed his mood had shifted. She eyed him tugging at the back of his belt warily. "But it's fine to not tell them. I just wanted-"

He sighed heavily. "I had a wife," the words sounded forced. "She is dead." He teased the mane of the horse, lost in thought for a long moment. Slapping the saddle, he gave in to her innocence. "Up you go, stulka."

Without another word he lifted her onto the saddle and then settled behind her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."

"Don't be, for I did not love her. I try to think of a point of when I did and it does not come to me. I was very young."

They drifted through the woods in silence, an air of awkwardness, so Avery spoke quietly, "I thought I may be a spinster when I was back at Benedict's Keep. And though the thought frightened me, I was saddened that being dignified with a husband was all a girl could aspire to," she said, plucking a leaf. "I could tend to my father's animals just as well as he could. I bet I could learn to fire your arrows twice as good."

Ubbe cocked his head with interest. "Be careful with what you say. And be careful at what price you bet."

"I wouldn't want to be selling myself to a bunch of dwarfs now…"

Ubbe clicked his tongue, brought the horse to a trot that had Avery gripping onto him, then came to a stop, motioning with his head for her to look.

Two deer stood statue still, wide eyed and ears pricked towards them. He unhooked his bow, loaded an arrow and aimed.

"No," Avery said softly, making him falter. "Not today. The day is too beautiful for blood to be shed."

He glanced at her with a sad smile and sighed. "Yes, it is."

They left the deer watching them, turned back the way they came, the horse's tail swishing as it strolled the path. Avery smiled sweetly as she looked up at Ubbe, her fingertips tracing the underside of his wrist until he got the prompt to turn his hand, and she placed a small white flower against his palm.

* * *

Days passed until it arrived on the day of another raid to the West. The rooms were once again ransacked, a hollow reminder whilst they prepared and burnt what they couldn't take. Ubbe was adorned in his full armour, everything he could possibly wear so that he didn't have to carry it. And whilst adjusting his belt, Hvitserk sat atop a cart sharpening a blade as the once relaxed atmosphere changed to that of war.

"I'm in love with the slave," Hvitserk mumbled, touching the point with his finger. "If I may be favoured to live, I will make her mine." Ubbe hummed and it irritated him. "Brother, are you not here with me?"

"I am elsewhere."

"What bothers you?" Hvitserk stopped and sheathed the knife, leaning on his knees and spat out onto the stone.

"I am bewitched by beauty and what I can't have." A slight smile tugged at his mouth and Hvitserk laughed.

"Bed a thrall." He shrugged. "Get it out of your system."

"I cannot." Ubbe covered his hands with fingerless gloves, tightening them by the wrist and adjusted them under the armour of his forearm. "I thought of it."

"Ah, well, there is nothing else I can say."

"She is not like the women I know of. She doesn't want me. There is nothing that I have that can convince her, not even title, it means nothing to her." He scoffed. "That in itself makes it worse."

Hvitserk picked at his nails. "We are monsters to her. Maybe you should count your blessings and find another. She  _is_  Christian after all. All that one God and mercy…" he trailed off.

"Exactly. I have thought much on it. I took her to the woods with every intention to stop my suffering." He sniffed and wiped his nose, finally looking at his brother. "But I couldn't do it. So I will need to find her a place, away from Christianity, somewhere safe. I don't want her touched by another." Ubbe caught Asger standing in the distance with his readied horse and gestured for him to approach.

"What are you saying?"

"The Gods have spoken to me."

"Ubbe, you are not seeing things clearly," Hvitserk sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Ubbe checked the saddle, under the belly of the horse, and tugged the reigns, satisfied with Asger's work and dismissed him. "My eyes have never been clearer, brother." He climbed up onto the horse, sitting in the saddle confidently. "I'd rather she detest me but be my wife, than nothing at all."

"When will you tell her?"

"On our journey." Ubbe took off to the front, signalling it was time to leave.

* * *

They travelled for such a long while that the sway of the cart Avery rode upon became maddening. Indra sat with her, Hvitserk riding alongside, and after a few of Indra's glances and Hvitserk's slick tongue in their language, she got the notion they spoke about her. She paid them no mind, for she could only guess, watching the rolling fields shift between plains and then woodland.

She heard a horse canter back down the line and saw Ubbe pull his horse in time with the cart directly beside her. "When will we arrive?" she asked right away. Being tired and hungry, and the thought of another raid playing on her mind, grated on her nerves and she wished it would be soon.

"At this pace, dusk, most probably." He held out a hand and she blinked at him in surprise. "Come, stulka."

Avery hitched up her skirt after only a moment's hesitancy and dared the crossing over the wheels of the cart. As soon as she sat across his lap, he slowed, letting the cart grow distant. "You want to talk of battle plans?" she questioned, thinking no more on it.

"Not exactly. I have been talking about you, if you should know." He scratched his beard, and from what Avery could see, he was a little out of character, nervous even. "After this next raid, your position will become questionable. How long do we allow a person such as yourself to ride freely amongst us?"

"Are you letting me go?"

When she turned to meet his eye, there was a reluctance in them. "If I did, where would you go?"

Avery touched the cross hidden under her dress. "I'm not certain. But I thought south."

"It is dangerous in this world for a woman like you."

"I can protect myself, if given the right tools."

Ubbe laughed. "You're fooling yourself, stulka."

"I have done it before - travelling alone. I can do it again… Maybe find a life."

The trees around them grew denser, pulling the line of northmen closer together. Ubbe cleared his throat. "Do you never think of a life with me?" Avery blushed, blinking down to the ground. "I know I'm probably not what you ever imagined. But I am taken with you, unlike any other."

"We are not the same people."

"We don't need to be the same people. I'd rather have you than watch you walk away, or be left with the thought that you are with someone else. This way I can protect you, for as long as I am living. It is what I want." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I will do it anyway, with or without your word, and maybe you'll eventually become to love me."

"So, there is no choice?" she asked glumly.

"After this raid I will wed you," he said with determination. "Then I can make you a true woman."

"No!" Avery pushed his shoulder, and he merely laughed. She chuckled but grew serious as his face did not lose any of his persistence. She slapped him again. "No, how dare you! Don't you speak for me. I won't have your Viking paws touching me!" He restrained her easily, bringing her back into his embrace, her breath calming from the anger she expelled, though she still pursed her lips and lifted her chin in defiance. "I  _won't_  have it."

Ubbe scoffed at her, barely able to retain the grin tugging at his lips. But the sound of blades slicing through the air had him frown at her, cutting off their conversation.

The line of travelling northmen came to a halt, quirking Ubbe's head up and Avery sitting straighter. He looked up at the commotion breaking out around him, arrows whizzing past them. Horses squealed ahead, and then a lengthy battle cry tore through the trees as finally the arrows buried themselves against man, wood, or horse.

Ubbe grabbed the reins, movement amongst the trees catching his eye just in time for him to shift his body as one arrow that would have hit Avery pierced his upper arm. Luckily, it was just flesh, the bulky leathers hindering the blow, and he pulled it from himself immediately, discarding it in shock to the ground.

Avery had whitened, fear riddling her body as she stared at him, and he at her, his body fully covering her. With a snarl he plucked his small axe and launched it into the trees, hearing the bark of pain.

Ubbe thundered back up the track and let Avery down to Indra cowering underneath the cart for cover. Ragged looking Churchmen exploded through the trees, swords drawn, and clashed with the anticipating northmen. Ubbe dismounted, swinging his sword deathly; piercing stomachs, chests and slashing necks with skill she hadn't seen that closely before.

Asger jumped down from the cart and hollered, blade in the air as he crashed into battle. Even Indra yelled, throwing an axe, capturing a churchmen too close to Asger. He turned around with a silly expression in appreciation, then ran off to continue. Avery watched as Indra scavenged a bow and began pelting arrow after arrow.

And as quickly as it begun, it finished, with a few death blows upon the bodies and some men taking off into the woods after the stragglers. Even Indra was struck with the suddenness, arm tensed, scanning along the treeline.

Indra dropped the bow and turned towards Avery, checking her over, talking over the maddened shout of Ubbe addressing the crowd. "Are you okay?"

Avery ran a hand down her body, chest tight and heaving. "Yes. Yes, I think so. What was that?"

"Garrison of some sort. Thieves. Too dirty for kept men… and stupid. It doesn't matter now anyway, they are fools to attack and the survivors will be gutted."

Avery swallowed thickly, then motioned to Ubbe. "What is he saying?"

"We will not raid tonight," Indra said vaguely. Avery knew that wasn't all but didn't question further, instead tried to rid of the petrified look upon her face, gather her senses, and recover from the attack.

* * *

It was dark by the time they made it through to a clearing and set up camp. Ubbe finally entered the tent they shared, and Indra disappeared immediately, leaving Avery to stand nervously amongst the disarray of furs in her night dress as he discarded his tunic with a grunt.

She twirled her fingers, then tried to ease the tension by signalling to a pestle and mortar on the floor which she and Indra had been using. "Indra showed me how to make an ointment for the pain." She scoffed. "Though, I couldn't tell you what's in it."

His eyes were trained on her and he looked at her for a long moment. But then he wordlessly took a seat upon a sitting log and pulled back the bandage wrapped around his arm, fishing a fresh rag from his pocket to change it with. She took a few steps and went to her knees in front of him.

"It's nothing," he said irritably. She reached up to help him anyway, but he stopped her. "It's fine. Go to bed, stulka."

"At least let me say thank you." Avery frowned at him until he breathed out slowly, disdainfully. "Though, my thanks don't seem to be enough."

"Don't. Stop whatever goes through your mind. Thanks is enough. I have dealt with far worse."

"Does it hurt?" she asked, sitting down on her heels.

Strangely he smiled and sighed. "Of course it hurts."

"Then," she said, gathering herself and walking back for the mortar. "You should let me help you." She knelt down again in front of him, scooped up the substance and pressed it against the wound.

It hurt more than he would say, his jaw ticked and his leg jumped no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. She met his eyes when rebandaging, an involuntary hiss from the knot of the bow, the muscles in his arm tensing.

"Indra said it will help its healing." Avery's usual tone was absent, and she drifted down from the wound with her fingertips. Gliding over other marks from the past, the skin was softer here than she thought and enriched by the dim candlelight around them.

There may be a man Avery would eventually come to love, but none that would take an arrow so willingly. She travelled all the way to his hand and turned it over, palm up, and kissed the rough skin softly. She felt his eyes on her, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Tucking his fingers closed, she moved to turn away, but he grabbed her arm urgently and pulled her back to him; so close, so reverently, she had to steady herself with a hand on his shoulder, balancing on her knees.

He reached out to her and his touch was gentle against her cheek. "Take back your kiss from my hand and place it upon my lips," he urged her.

His eyes were filled with such longing that her breath caught in her throat.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes off directly from where the last chapter ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, there will be multiple triggers and mature content throughout. Now that I've cleared the air, a huge thank you. You're all great! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The Dog Chapter 9

Avery tried to turn her head away but couldn't, he wouldn't let her. It wasn't forceful, Ubbe's hold was gentle, hand against her cheek. It was his eyes though that she couldn't find the confidence to keep.

"Avery," he said her name quietly, for her bolted gates were shutting down, and he knew it.

She breathed out shakily, floundering with the idea. "I've never kissed anybody the way you want me to." She touched the back of his hand, caressing it while it still lingered by her face.

"I can make it very easy." He took her hand and placed it over his heart, against his bare chest which was littered with marks that perfectly mottled his skin. Her hand flexed against the dusting of chest hair and then he drew her impossibly closer, a fumble as he steadied her between his legs, their foreheads touching, sharing the same air for a long moment as she dared to link her arm around his shoulder for balance.

Her chest rose and fell quickly, and she did not care if it was obvious to him; for she wanted to try and kiss him, but she was admittedly scared by what that meant. And if he asked her in that moment whether she was fearful or not, she would have confirmed without a second thought. She wondered whether this meant that she'd given in to the Vikings - that she had accepted her fate.

But before she could dwell on those thoughts, she let herself lean forward with his pull, barely registering the pain in her knees for having leant on them so long. He brushed his nose with hers briefly, and then, as if it was the most natural thing, their lips met.

It wasn't burning, sloppy or urgent. It was delicate, a brush upon the skin, almost soothing; that all those thoughts running through her mind before were pointless - that even fear was pointless.

Ubbe leaned back and with his eyes fixated on her lips, he cupped her face again and brought her back to him, this time for longer. She shuddered, lips parting upon his. Her night dress fell from her shoulder, exposing her collarbone, and he broke away, lavishing the skin gently, leaving kisses to her neck while she flinched towards him, then his mouth went back to hers.

Avery lost herself to him; with his hands in her hair, blunt nails scraping against her scalp, urging her. There wasn't a thought to think, there was only touch, sensations beating beneath her skin.

Ubbe growled under his breath and hoisted her up by the back of her legs to his lap. When she gasped and stiffened, he looked up at her, sighing he let her catch her breath.

"Too fast," she whispered, closing her eyes, feeling him run a hand down her back.

"I want to kiss you everywhere." She blushed at his honesty, a small smile tugging at his words. "I want to kiss your scars, your mouth, outside, inside..." Avery laughed at his serious tone. "...Until you fall asleep, knowing that I shall _never_ hurt you." He rose up with her still in his arms, took her to the furs they usually slept upon and tumbled down with her, letting her land on her back as he reared up to admire her. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he bit his lip. "Can I?"

Avery gripped the covers in a fist, looking away from him. If she said yes, what did that mean for her, her morals, her self-worth? For she didn't, nor couldn't love him.

"I promise that is all," he said, and it was enough to numb her feelings. There was something cardinal about promises. Slowly she nodded, and sitting up, she pulled her night dress over her head, instinctively trying to cover her body with her hands, skin prickling from the cold.

"You've seen me before," she said, more to remind herself.

"Yes, I have." Though he fought it, his eyes went to her breasts, how could they not? He scoured over her, every inch of her body. Then he lavished the scar on her hip first, placing open mouthed kisses across it, travelled up to her navel, and further up to the valley of her breasts and minded exactly where he placed his hands.

Avery let her eyes close and tried to remain still. And Ubbe kept to his word.

* * *

Indra, like usual, snuck through the night towards Hvitserk's tent at his request. By habit, she kept her hands together in front of her and head down, passing soundlessly through the occupied tents around her as the people slept.

She was almost there. And she had plans to try and catch him off guard, so vividly, she was smiling to herself and not taking notice of her surroundings. A hand latched onto her upper arm and took her off balance, dragging her into the dim lighting inside a tent. She pushed harshly at the man, but he didn't let go and even had the nerve to chuckle at her expense.

"Hendrick, that is enough," she hissed between her teeth.

"My place is vacant tonight and I want the problem fixed." He threw her effortlessly onto his messy furs. She tried to stand, getting on all fours, caught up in her wears.

"I don't do this anymore," she pleaded, but he grabbed her, holding her there on her hands and knees. "Let go of me!" She went to slap him, but he anticipated it and pushed her again more forcefully. He got down on his knees behind her, unbuckled himself. Indra kicked out only for him to twist her hair around his hand and yank back painfully. He tossed her skirts over her back, lined himself up and thrusted. She whimpered at first, crippled over with the pain.

"Go ahead," he gritted out, his skin slapping against her rear, the fake touch of appreciation of a lover against her skin. "And tell Hvitserk what happened here. You can say how grateful you are..."

She bit down into her arm to muffle a scream.

"You're all the same. And they look for a new sacrifice. After this I'm sure you'll be on the top of the list." He pulled her up by her hair. "I want to see your tears." His breath became choked as he spoke. "I want you to cry. I like it when they cry."

Indra just counted down in her head and sought out comfort by thinking of Hvitserk.

Hendrick came, releasing her from the misery and tumbled down beside her. "You will stay here," he said, panting, pulling her down to lie with him and using his large mass of body to pin her against him. "I want them to see you leave my tent in the morning."

* * *

Avery woke with such a calmness, she instantly believed it forbode bad luck. Her luck was never on her side; it always ran thin eventually.

She settled on the thought of her deal with the Vikings and how it was now completely worn. It had evolved, under Ubbe's doing – perhaps her own; for finally dropping her defenses. Did it stop the thoughts that perhaps it was a trick or advantageous move on his behalf? That he fancied her and would grow bored once he had her? ...No. But it sure was easy to let the idea go with the birds outside chirping in the early rise of the sun and every one of her limbs tingling.

Avery propped herself on her elbow, flattening her from sleep tousled hair and peered behind her. Ubbe slept soundly, on his front, head turned away, which bared all his scars and war wounds, each shimmering with every breath he took.

She considered waking him, but dared not, for after the happenings of last night she now felt awkward, and didn't quite know what all of this meant or how she should act. She was as affectionate as a farmer watching their animals or a teacher to their children.

Their conversation of temptation came back to her mind. The thought on how she'd prayed to be delivered from it, to only fall so willingly.

What was she doing? What was she doing in this Vikings bed? What was she doing last night, to forget the pain etched so deep so she could feel lips upon her skin, to pretend for a moment the world didn't exist. Because to her, for the first time, it didn't exist last night. And it startled her.

So, she did what she did best, and ran from it. Avery slipped on her dress silently, tying her shoes and throwing a cloak over her shoulders, peering back once to make sure she hadn't woke him. She braced against the fresh, bitter air of the morning, the grass still dewy, and walked out to the people constructing the large fire again, some glancing in surprise at her early rise.

She was only looking for one face, Indra's, and couldn't find her. She would then look for Benedict, but there was no way to know what tent he was held in. So, instead she went to the large fire.

When Asger saw her, his face lit up, and he went to her immediately, taking her hands while she tried to hide her smile, prompting her to sit upon the logs. He brought her food, fresh water, digging into his own sloppily beside her. "Avery," he said, stammering even her name still. "Avery stay Asger. Me, warrior." His eyes went wide as he breathed out the words, wrinkles upon wrinkles on his aged face, falling into a childish giggle. It was obvious he'd searched out Indra to teach him at some point.

"Indra?" she asked enthusiastically. "Where is Indra?"

His bushy eyebrows puckered up, then he began nodding, pointing over her shoulder. Sure enough, walking with her head down in that specific, fashioned way, she was coming towards them.

Avery rose her hand to wave but faltered as she saw a forlorn frown etching her pretty face until their eyes met. While Avery, still troubled, stood up, ready to ask her what was wrong, Indra smiled.

"What a cold night it was, my lady. Did you sleep well? ...I didn't."

Avery felt her cheeks grow warm. "It was… Erm, very well."

"You are blushing." Indra's smile grew wider. "Have you spoken much with Ubbe?"

"We have spoken." Avery breathed out and her shoulders slumped. "You know of his plans, Indra. You knew of them before I did."

"Of course. And how are you feeling with his _plans?"_

"I haven't quite-"

"For me," Indra interrupted. "I am so happy. What happens to your Christianity if you marry a heathen? I suppose you have to accept the Gods. I think you would very much enjoy all they have to offer. And what luck, to marry into such a strong and victorious family in a time like this. Especially since you have been a slave girl to your Christian men before, then a slave to the Vikings, then you find yourself a free woman in such a short amount of time..."

"What?" Avery grew irritated. "I have never been anyone's slave. And being married against your will to a man you don't love is called a 'free woman'?" she said incredulously.

"What do you call it?"

"A farce. Why don't we add kidnapping, murder, and blasphemy?"

"You shouldn't speak badly of those who have saved you…"

Avery stepped closer to Indra, saying the words slowly. "They _saved_ me to _use_ me. The fact that you don't seem to understand says so much."

Indra was taken back, blinking in surprise of how quickly the conversation had turned. "You are still angry, I understand. Your pride doesn't allow you to see-"

"Oh, _stop it_ , Indra!" Avery turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't mean to snap at her, but her passiveness stoked her irritation. She already had enough on her mind, then to realise what it looked like from an insider's point of view...

She'd been blinded, like she originally feared back at the Keep. And it was true - Ubbe's affection meant nothing. She was an object. She needed to remember that each time that bud of temptation fluttered.

Indra dropped her head. "Of course, my lady. I was just happy for you."

"Show me to Benedict."

"I cannot-"

"Please, Indra," she said, her voice growing more desperate.

Indra squared her shoulders, glanced at Asger peering in puzzlement between them, then led the way in silence. It was on the outer edge of the camp, the tiniest of tents and no guard - which to Avery was suspicious. She pointed, still unhappy with her, watching her pass.

Avery went inside first, and immediately the smell suffocated her. She pinched her nose, squinting as there was no light. Nothing could prepare her. It sounded like a chain rattled, a sudden movement, two limbs going up into the air.

"Please, not again!" Benedict begged, his voice void of life; a phantom of its past.

"It's me, Avery." The smell stung her eyes, and she realised that the limbs were stumps, bandaged where once were feet. "What have they done to you?"

"God has abandoned me. He punishes me for not guiding his people. He punishes me for you. He punishes me for not protecting the Keep. The heathens come and go as they please. And He punishes me…" Benedict sobbed, struggling to speak. "For my sins…"

"Wha… what are you talking about?" Avery asked. She looked behind her to Indra, staring down at Benedict as if she knew something; as if she could see straight through him. Indra finally caught her eyes, her face unreadable, then she left without another word and Avery's attention went back to Benedict. "What have you done? What are you saying?"

"I loved Eda, as if she were my own." Benedict whimpered, baring his bottom teeth as he broke into sob, a range of snot and tears coating his face, spittle spreading between his lips as he spoke. "But I had a devil inside me. I had the devil inside me and he was hungry, vivid in his enticing words. He made me think things-"

Avery put her hand to her head, accompanied by nausea. "Stop talking," she could all but whisper over his ranting.

"He made me do things-"

"Shut up!" She pushed her fingers into her cheeks, then her eyes, gripping her face as she began to shatter into a million tiny jagged pieces. Avery saw Eda right before her, so authentic, she could almost reach out and touch the memory itself. But it was tarred with slick black oil as it seeped over the girl's face, like in Avery's repetitive dreams. She realised that the oil was a symbol to the her mask of ignorance - a mask that was pulled over her eyes in blind faith. She had eyes, but by God, she needed to learn how to open them.

"He made me turn my back on the Lord," Benedict kept rambling on, "I thought I'd prayed for such forgiveness, but He alludes me now!"

"Shut up!" she screamed at the top of her voice, launching at his helpless form and took the chain that kept him bound. It was attached to a leather collar around his neck that snagged him as she snapped it straight. "You bastard!" She managed one link around his neck, pulling it with a foot against his chest until his eyes bulged before she was grabbed from behind, kicking into the air. "You sick bastard!" In her fury she broke away, spat on him. "I want to kill him!"

She didn't care if her voice broke hysterically, she didn't care for who watched. The primal urge of revenge was too strong. And she fought desperately to be released, even out into the open, where the fresh air filled her lungs, the cold bit her face. It was fitting the sky was still thick with morning fog. It could easily all be a dream - she wanted it to all be a dream; even if it had to be a nightmare.

The grip on Avery was rough, her long hair sticking to her cheeks as her jaw was grabbed. Her tears of anger, pain, sadness, numbed the world around her.

"Avery, listen to me-"

She could hear Ubbe's voice, but a distance away, though his breath tickled her ear and his fingers dug into her skin. He had her back pinned to him, a tangle of arms and when he turned her around and shook her, he received a slap to his shoulder, his chest, the side of his head.

"Stulka! Stop this!"

"Nobody is truthful, nobody appears as they seem!" She clapped him a good one on the shaved part of his head that echoed, his nostrils flaring as he bit his cheek. "He needs to die. I want him dead!" Ubbe was breathing heavily as they stumbled on the spot. "Indra already knew…" she broke down into heavy sob, tears running down her cheeks. "You knew, and then you did this to him! Why didn't you just kill him and save all this… all this grief!"

"His feet were already lost, I told you that!" Ubbe said heatedly, losing his composure from the knock to his head. "You needed to hear the truth, from him. I wanted to speak to you first – for you to see who you truly held high! That not all is good. Not men like him!" Ubbe shook her one last time as she ceased to struggle, staring her down formidably, his blue eyes storming before her. "But please tell me you already knew that _they_ weren't all almighty. Please tell me you weren't that naïve. There is good and bad on both sides. Some more hidden than others." He kept her face. She had to listen. He wasn't letting her turn away.

His forehead gradually touched hers as he cupped the back of her neck. "I wanted to show you this. I wanted you to hear the truth. But I didn't want you talking to him without me. This was not what I wanted. I wouldn't do that." They floated in the same air for a long moment, until he said the words very slowly, "I don't want you to fear me, as a Viking, not anymore."

Avery sniffed, her chest still heaving, but she swallowed down her sense of self-pity. "I don't fear you."

It was true, she didn't. Her fear of northmen was vanquished because of Ubbe. But it also didn't mean they were any better than each other. That the betrayal of Benedict signified that no one could be truly trusted, no man, no matter how much she wanted to.

An idea sparked in her mind. An idea that hurt more than she thought it would.

Even if she wanted to wallow, she couldn't, for he pulled her against him, his chin on top of her head. The last person who comforted her in a full embrace was her mother, so many years ago.

But her mother was dead. Anyone she ever loved, dead. She would not and could not love Ubbe.

* * *

Indra had seen Hvitserk and diverted on a different course. The last thing she wanted was to lie to him about where she was last night. She was already filled with fretful nerves, and Avery was now with Ubbe, she wondered how to keep herself occupied from her thoughts.

Hendrick stepped out in front of her, over six feet tall, all brawn, his long braid freshly made and the rest clean shaven. Indra nervously looked around and opted to dig her nails into the skin of her wrist to ground herself.

"Indra," he leered and reached out to touch her, but she flinched backwards.

"Don't touch me, Hendrick! You have done enough," she hissed.

"Is this love, then? You love the puppy? The follower?" He scrunched up his face in disgust.

Indra stuck her nose up at him. "It is none of your concern."

"What happened to the girl I used to know, the Indra at Kattegat and far between? Is she lost now because someone said that you look pretty?"

"I don't have to listen to this," she sighed, stepping past. "You'd do well to leave me alone."

"I wasn't insulting you, Indra..." Hendrick turned to fully face her, a slight drop in his expression. "I was being serious when I said I wanted to know what happened to the girl," he stammered, then said forcibly, as if the words pained him, "She's still pretty."

Indra paused, and Hendrick puffed his chest out as she approached. Had his chiding unexpectedly worked?

Indra spat directly in his face. "Shame on you."

* * *

The next day Avery accompanied Ubbe towards the edge of the camp. She sat in the grass as it dried from the afternoon sun with a break in the clouds, watching him swing his sword with ease, stopping from time to time, grimacing at his arm.

She picked the daisies around her absent-mindedly, creating a pile. She was exhausted, and though having slept early the night before, it hadn't helped. She'd had bad dreams, memories playing on repeat until Ubbe had woken her with an air of concern, but didn't say a word of whether she was the cause of his waking. Too much grief bared heavy on the soul.

As Ubbe fought, or more danced with his sword and invisible enemy, she couldn't help but admire him. For whatever stories his scars told, he still remained fierce. She wished she could take a piece of that, twist it into wisdom like he could.

He finally dug the sword in the earth and approached breathless, tilting his head back as he stopped to look down at her. "Your thoughts are heavy, stulka, I see it."

Avery scoffed and picked up some more daisies, making a half-hearted attempt at a daisy chain. "I've been meaning to apologise, ooh bear, for yesterday morning." She looked up at him. They hadn't spoken much about it and it warmed her cheeks. "And the night before that."

"What?"

"I don't want you to think of me so easily. That what you did out of pity-"

"Pity?" He chuckled loudly. "I've been trying to bed you since we took the last Keep." He crouched down, picked up a flower and placed it behind her ear. "More than any man has patience for. But for what it's worth, I'm enjoying my time with you, even if you have an easily angered temper." His smile fell slightly. "I was the one seeking comfort. I should have held my tongue. I should have... but could not. I'm glad I didn't."

He frowned, signalling to her face. "You, er, have something…" He leaned closer, and she tilted her face perfectly, where he could steal a kiss against her cheek.

Avery's mouth hung in shock, pushing him and knocking him off balance. "Ooh bear!"

He laughed loudly, landing on his back, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. "Ah, was worth it."

"It was awful, for I could feel your sweat." She preened the petals, glancing at him to notice the glint in his eye. "Next, I shall force you to eat these flowers. They smell better-" He sat up quickly and she shrieked, grabbing her skirts and fumbling to stand up. She faced off with him, primed to run past him towards the camp, and he had his arms out wide to catch her. "Ooh bear, people will see!" she tried to deter him. "You are acting like a child."

Avery giggled as she made a disastrous attempt, being caught and swung around, tumbling down onto the grass with him. Ubbe groaned from the impact of his arm catching the fall, but still smiled toothily while laid against her side, with her flat on her back and gazing up at him.

"I mean to marry you," Ubbe couldn't help but say as she laid there, a picturesque sight. "I will not do it wrongly. I will respect your beliefs. But I still intend to marry you."

"You shouldn't say such things. You are a prince, with an army, with options of fine born women, responsibilities. I couldn't make you happy."

He picked stray blades of grass from her chest. "In this moment I have never been happier. I feel if I lose you, I will lose my sense altogether."

"I am not a woman to be seen fit as a wife."

Ubbe trailed the vein of her neck, to her jaw. "I want to know that you will sleep next to me every night."

"I have bad dreams," she quipped, as if it would make a difference or change his mind.

"I long to see your stomach swell with my child." His hand travelled down her body. "That you would call upon me. That you would come to me seeking comfort."

"Don't speak of such things," she mumbled in reply. She sat up, pushing him away. "I am a Christian."

Ubbe shrugged. "I'm not. It doesn't change anything. But it would be better if you agreed, huh?"

"I've given you my answer."

"Your opinion has changed on Benedict," he said, and Avery couldn't deny it. He silently kissed his teeth knowing this conversation wasn't going to go anywhere. "You know what will happen tonight." He rolled onto his back and looked up to the sky, eyes reflecting back an even more intense blue while he thought, playing with her skirt.

Avery had plans for the night, but not the one he was implying. It felt heavy on her shoulders, bolting her to the earth at the thought. "...He will be sacrificed."

"Yes, and you will watch him be sacrificed. For honour of the Gods." He sat up and grabbed her attention. "Do not feel sorrow for him. His life will go to the Gods, who will accept and cast protection over us. And I think mainly for you."

Avery shuddered. "And for Eda," she whispered.

"And for Eda," Ubbe repeated so she would look at him. He caressed her face, rubbing his thumb against her bottom lip, and she let him. "Let me comfort you."

Avery smiled shyly, then nodded. It may be the last time.

There was something different about their kiss. It was wistful, the breeze washing over them. Or perhaps it was because of the guilt boiling under her surface. That she longed for just a little moment longer to play pretend. That nothing else mattered.

Ubbe's lips felt cold, the heat of his tongue more illicit when brushing her mouth. She let herself fall into his rhythm, feeling his breath increase against her face, pulling her to him. He slid a hand under her skirt, tracing his finger from her knee along to her inner thigh, and she gasped, her stomach clenching, cheeks flushing. His mouth went to her neck and he bit down, the most beautiful sound leaving her throat and she couldn't help but push closer. And the more she did, the more his hand travelled higher.

"Avery." Ubbe chuckled against her neck and his voice knocked her from the anticipation of what would happen next, falling harshly into reality. "Avery, we must prepare."

She cleared her throat, slightly startled. "Oh... yes. Of course." She stood up hesitantly while he remained sitting on the ground. "Aren't you coming?"

"Just give me a moment," he sighed.

* * *

Indra never left Avery's side. Avery couldn't take her eyes away from the ascended poles, each one of Benedict's wrists bound and hauled up that not even his stumps touched the ground. Everyone stood in respectful silence to just the sound of flames licking up into the night. The northman leading the ceremony spoke quickly in their language, calling over Benedict's rambling that Avery couldn't help but listen to against the backdrop of darkness.

" _But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep…"_

Avery's chest felt stricken, the panic rising steadily with each passing moment, and Indra must have sensed it, slipping her hand into hers until their fingers locked.

" _For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead."_

"Do not be scorned by his preaching words, my lady," Indra whispered. "You can find peace in that there are far worse deaths, and his will become your protection. The Gods will see you. They will know what pain he has caused and favour you."

Avery glanced at her, held her tighter. Ubbe had said the same thing. She looked out to the crowd, mesmerised by some of the unusual markings and facepaint. Even Indra had three fingers drawn across her forehead, running down her temple. The man leading the ceremony beckoned the blade offered to him, and then felt it's edge for assurance that it was worthy enough.

Benedict's voice became higher as the gap was closed between him and the leading man. "Oh my Lord!" he yelled, kicking out to get away, gazing up to the sky. " _For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall… shall all be made alive…"_

He hadn't finished as she witnessed the blade being risen to his neck and slicing through, drowning his last words as he bled out. The cue was given and the ropes were twisted and heaved from each side, eventually hanging him upside down to bleed dry.

Though the crowd surged in their thanks to their many Gods, Avery stood motionless.

"My lady, you've gone cold."

Avery turned to her quickly. "Am I going to Hell now?" Indra furrowed her brows. "I initiated his death. It was because-"

"The only place you will go is with me, to drink a sweet drink now." Indra tugged her. "Come."

* * *

Hvitserk had drunk far too much in the company of Ubbe, Hendrick, and a few others. Sandarr, who led the joined group preferred the company of his own - not that Ubbe minded. The pale haired man gave him the creeps at times, and was sure his eyes laid on men and not women.

All of them were marked with emblems of quiet asks and well-wishes they wanted in their lives upon their skin. And in this time of celebration, Hvitserk's long face grated on Ubbe's nerves. He had an idea of the cause though.

"Where is she?" Ubbe asked him quietly as the others still conversed, balancing his elbows on his knees while nursing a drink.

"I have not seen her since we left the Keep, and when I tried this afternoon she said she was occupied and couldn't appear anymore annoyed to see me." Hvitserk threw a rock into the fire. "But she is just a slave. I should have known from experience that it is not me they want."

"The drink is talking, brother."

"Remind me of a time so it makes me wrong," Hvitserk said wryly, and Ubbe glanced around the people maintaining his silence. "Another drink and I'll see clearer. Shall we talk of our battles? … I'd rather."

Ubbe took another sip then stretched out, leaning closer to Hvitserk. "We can't maintain England. Not the whole of it. The expectations are too high."

"Ivar seems to think-"

"Ivar always reaches too far beyond his grasp. The ports to the East, we most probably could. A direct passage and to and from, but not to the West."

"You think our mission is pointless?"

"We should be in East Anglia, closer to Mercia, Wessex. Isn't that what all of this is about? Instead he sends basic soldiers. No ties to the family, just an allegiance. If they take a county, it will be led by Earls and promises." A slave interrupted and filled their glasses, and Ubbe waited until she left. "We should aim for Northumbria and East Anglia, that is all."

Hvitserk raised an eyebrow. "If we have them, who will run them?"

"That decision rests with the Gods. It may be years from now. Ivar certainly won't want to test the people's allegiance with the true heir claiming land… You are not blind to his jealousy, Hvitserk. By disgracing me it makes it easier for him." Ubbe looked to the stars quickly. "...I have accepted that. I don't begrudge him."

Hvitserk scoffed incredulously. "After everything he has done? He has torn our family apart."

"He has made _us_ stronger. It made me realise how dangerous pride really is." A cheer rose from around them, then Ubbe raised his glass. "Skol. Now let's not waste our blessings of the future on the past." Ubbe downed most of his drink. He halted to the sight of Indra leading Avery over, holding themselves gracefully which took many eyes of the men as they passed. He noticed Hendrick and Indra glance at each other only briefly.

The vibe from Hvitserk almost burned as he sat straighter. "Are you ladies joining us?" Hvitserk slightly slurred, his woes draining away at the sight of her.

Avery peered around, not understanding, but Indra dropped her head in greeting. "The Christian girl would like to go to bed. I will aid her."

"Very well," Hvitserk brushed her off, almost gesturing for them to leave, making Ubbe sigh and stand up.

He made sure Indra couldn't hear as he stepped closer. "Do you want company?" He then realised how it sounded. "You are not fearful after the ceremony?"

Avery smiled at him. "No, I'm fine. I would rather a new day, that is all."

"No, yeah, of course," he blurted, wiping his mouth. "I must stay."

"I know. Indra told me." She ducked her head, staring at the ground.. "Goodnight, ooh bear."

Ubbe watched her leave.

* * *

"I will be here early. I thought I would take your dress to the river tomorrow, and by my return I will help you get a place by the fire to eat…" Indra rambled on, lighting another candle, then returning to Avery on the furs about to help her undress.

"I'm okay, Indra. Thank you." She stopped her, held her hand tightly. "You must want to get back to Hvitserk."

"Hvitserk doesn't know who he loves. And for him, it should not be me."

It puzzled Avery. "Why? I saw you back at the-"

"I don't wish to speak of it. I do my duty and that is all."

She played with a piece of fur cautiously. "Has something happened?"

"Nothing concerning at all, my lady." She forced a smile, then finally looked at her. "You must sleep. Sleeping is my favourite because I dream. I don't like to miss it."

"Goodnight, Indra."

Indra leaned over and kissed the top of her head, and Avery almost didn't want her to leave. She watched her secure the entrance, giving it a few minutes before rushing up, redressing in the furs, packing extra in cloth with her cross placed in the middle. She crouched at the entrance of the tent and peeped out, looking back only once to where Ubbe and her had slept.

Almost as if to convince herself, she whispered, "I don't belong here."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. :)

The Dog Chapter 10

There was not a soul but voices carried over the many tents from the centre. Avery couldn't tell if there were any guards or men patrolling the border of the camp, but if it was up to Ubbe, she knew there would be, at all times. Especially after the chaotic stint when Hendrick had forgotten to mind the trail they left behind.

She almost turned back. Almost.

Her blood ran cold just from the thought alone; wandering the woods and fields they'd crossed before. Her fingers were numb when she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. And she physically forced herself to cross the threshold. With little light save for the moon, every shadow or breeze that kicked up debris sent her body into flight.

Weaving through the tents soundlessly, she hadn't made it far when she heard a familiar voice, talking thickly in the northmen's strange tongue, hushed for privacy. The woman's voice wasn't alone, for the replies she received by a man were just as hissed, vicious even, a continuous back and forth. Avery peered around as discretely as she could, squinting into the darkness to see... Indra. She was looking up at Hendrick and all his brawn, his hands gesturing frantically while her arms remained crossed and defensive.

"What are you talking about," Avery whispered to herself, getting closer, trying to interpret it with a mere guess.

Suddenly Hendrick grabbed each of Indra's shoulders and shook her. Avery dumped her small pile of valuables at the bottom of the nearest tent and ran to her defense, then stopped out in the open when he kissed her.

"Indra?" Avery exclaimed, watching as the woman snapped to and pushed Hendrick away.

"Avery," she gasped, looking between her and Hendrick. "What are… what are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" Avery moved closer, an angered Hendrick scowling at her. "What are you doing… with him?"

" _Him_?" Hendrick scoffed.

"This is nothing." Indra narrowed her eyes at Hendrick in warning then broke away, carolling Avery back towards the tent. "My problems are nothing. But I need to know exactly what you are doing. You are dressed like…" Indra couldn't catch her breath. "Are you _running_?"

"No, I… I'm. I was going…"

Indra's face told that she didn't believe anything that came from her mouth. There was only Hendrick's laughter. "This is going to be fun when Ubbe finds out you tried to run away back to your Christians. I wonder if he'll have you tied up again?"

"Ubbe will not find out," Indra said.

"He will when I tell him." Hendrick still found joy.

"Then he will know that you were with me. I am involved now."

"Wait," Avery said, throwing her arms out. "Nobody else is involved."

"I have seen you, I'm involved. If I allow you to go it will probably cost mine _and_ Hendrick's life."

That stopped him from laughing. "What are you talking about," he snapped in their tongue. "I have no involvement with this." Indra ignored him.

"I know our way of life is strange to you. I know you are fearful of being happy. But is it so bad? Is it so bad that you consider leaving without voicing your concerns? Ubbe respects you, and he has never thought of you as a coward - this is cowardly. What is going on inside of you, Avery?" Indra touched her cheek, pleading for an answer. "Tell me. Is it because you have come to care for Ubbe? Is it because we are the horrible beasts from the north; Vikings?" Indra smiled weakly. "I am a Viking and I would unquestionably put my life before yours. Does that tell you nothing? Does it give you no answers?"

"You really like to talk," Hendrick breathed, gazing out towards the centre of the camp. Indra shrugged him off. "Your life is worth more than the Christians."

"I cannot care for either of you. If I do, you will get hurt," Avery finally admitted. "If Ubbe marries me, I don't know whether it is his hand forcing me to, or if I truly want it?" Indra's palm still remained on her cheek in a loving gesture and it was enough to force out her deepest apprehensions. "I'm scared."

"Scared of good things and bad things, what a predicament," Indra teased. "You are most unusual. It is dangerous to think too much."

"Take her back, Indra," Hendrick snapped, losing patience. "I will tell Ubbe."

"No!" She looked back to Avery. " _You_ will tell Ubbe of what you planned tonight. And you will tell him why you did not do it, and _will not_ do it again." There was strength to her words. "So be it if you tell him you saw us together." Indra sighed and turned to Hendrick. "But our affection is one sided."

Hendrick shook his head, wiping his nose before storming off into the darkness.

Avery stared after him, feeling like the earth would swallow her whole. "He's going to tell him."

"I've known Hendrick for a long time, before I parted and went on Sandarr's voyage, travelling with his men. He will be very annoyed, he will think bad things of me, but he will not tell Ubbe."

"Is this why you were sad earlier? You wouldn't tell me what was wrong, saying it was nothing concerning. But something has happened between you."

"Jealousy. Wanting something he can't have. He can't have me but won't let Hvitserk have me either." Her brow rose at the thought, she was becoming wary again. "It's all a game to men like him. They want you and grow bored. They think of you as claimed property."

Avery peered to the ground. It was one of the thoughts that had crossed her mind before. "Men like him? Do you think Ubbe will grow bored-"

"Don't even say it, my lady. Ubbe is far from Hendrick. For one, I know, because you don't hate his guts." Indra appeared more elated having outed herself, and signalled back towards Ubbe's tent. "Shall we?"

They linked arms and walked slowly, stumbling upon Avery's small stash of clothes and picked them up without mentioning it again. Avery held Indra tighter. "Stay with me tonight." Indra laughed at first, then realised she was serious. "Please?"

"I would detest but I can't ignore a plea. Ubbe will not refuse two women sleeping in his bed. I think it would please him." Avery hesitated and Indra smiled at her. "I'm fooling… No matter what you think or hear of Viking men, Ubbe likes to be selfish, so it is told. It is _such_ a pity."

"Indra!"

"A woman's love is far more passionate," she laughed. "They know our bodies like we know our own. No clumsy man's hand. All delicate skin and touches. If you want."

Back inside the tent, Indra took off the layers of furs and cloaks and sat on the bedding furs with Avery under the light of a candle. "You prefer women?" Avery blurted, too curious as she relaxed back onto her elbow.

"No, I like both. They both have different things I like. To choose one over the other does not come easily to me." Resting on her legs, back straight, down to her small linen she wore beneath her dress, Indra looked the picture of an angel to Avery. She smiled up and let her head fall back tiredly against the tuft of material stuffed with feathers obviously stolen from a previous Keep, listening intently. "But it is not women you are interested in, Avery. Do you even know how to pleasure a man?"

"It's the thing in their pants. I'm not completely clueless."

Indra giggled. "Yes, I suppose. But the question is, do you know how to pleasure yourself?"

Avery found herself blushing, though there was no reason. "It's the last thing I think of-"

"But lately it comes to mind with Ubbe, yes?" Avery nodded shyly. "I will give you advice." Indra had a wry smirk on her face. "When the travel is long and you can't stop, the sway of the saddle…" She rolled her hips a certain way. "Is _just_ enough."

"Indra!"

"You always shout my name when I embarrass you!" She fell down beside Avery, their giggles filtering out. "Now sleep, my lady. I won't speak of it no more and redden your beautiful face." She pushed hair behind Avery's ear. "Promise me you won't try to run ever again? You belong."

_Belong._

Avery sighed contently as sleep washed over her. She was _so_ stupid. "I promise."

* * *

At first the noise slipped into her dreams, until it became more clear, louder, out of sync with what she was dreaming of. Avery stretched out her arms to a vacant bed, light pouring in from the flap of the entrance hanging open, and the silhouette of Ubbe perched on a log sharpening his blade. She must have sighed upon waking as Ubbe had already turned and looked over his shoulder, watching her. "It is about time."

Her heart sank a little when she noticed that he didn't look happy. His concentration went back on the blade, shoulders hunched over his work.

"Ooh bear, I have to tell you something."

"I wish you had told me before that I would be walking in with nowhere to sleep."

Avery frowned. "There was loads of room." Ubbe just scoffed at her. "Perhaps we should speak later, your mood won't help."

"No," he said sharply. "No, I don't avoid problems. I have a problem, I out it. I say, I do. I am a very simple man."

"What _is_ the problem?"

Ubbe shook his head, sharpening the blade harder. "I don't share. Not anymore. I've learned from my mistakes."

"What are you talking about? Are we talking about Indra?"

"Yes, of course we are," he snapped back but was caught with Avery's giggle. He was finding it hard to remain mad with her.

"I'm learning of your culture; that you are free to think. But Indra was just keeping me company." As she spoke, she draped a cloak around her shoulders, taking a seat on the floor next to him, looking out to the clearest day they had had so far. The absence of rain only forebode a major storm would soon inevitably pass. "We are friends only."

"She likes sex and she likes women... And you won't marry me."

Though he scowled at her, Avery couldn't help but smile at him, noting the unique way his eyes spoke more than any feature. The sigh he'd put on his words to seem like he didn't care but did, the way he would tilt his head in thought, shoulders squared.

When she moved up to her knees to get to his level, he stopped fidgeting with the blade. And before she could think it through - like she needed to do this to solidify how she felt - she kissed him, using a little of the affection she'd learned to stroke the side of his face, running her finger along the largest scar over his eye.

"You truly care for me? In such a small amount of time? That once, I was nothing to you." She found the courage to look him straight in the eye, for the first time him being unsure of holding them. Because yes, her forwardness was unusual. And yes, she had just kissed him voluntarily. But she knew of that wariness, the cautious and apprehensive look of past betrayal.

Jealousy rose in her stomach, thinking that maybe someone had said something similar to him before, that she was never going to be his first, and that he had loved another before her. Wondering whether his previous lover's fate may become her own, she had grown sad at the prospect that if she did give herself to him, he may sideline her like others.

But staring at him, she had a thrill course through her while thinking of the future, past hunger and pain, and maybe, for even a second, she felt the warmth of being loved. That the void of abandonment from her mother on that night seemed far away suddenly.

"I admit your innocence is tempting." His lip rose slightly, then fell back with meaning behind his words. "But that is not all, stulka. Your bravery, mind, along with your pain, speak more than you have to. Your will to stick by your true beliefs is fierce, considering your new circumstances. That can't be said for many."

Avery clamped her eyes closed, it was now or never. "Ooh bear, I have to tell you-"

He interrupted her by shifting, pointing to her pile she'd made left beside the bed. "You didn't leave, though."

"No." Her shoulders sagged; he could read her too well it appeared.

"Then that is all that matters." Relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, gripping his tunic in thanks of his easy forgiveness, feeling him draw her closer until their foreheads met. His hand ran up her back, into her hair where he fisted it, keeping her there. "We won't speak of it again, but it is the last time." It was a sweet warning, and she nodded as much as she could.

The cloak fell from Avery's shoulders, and Ubbe recovered it, placing it back over her, then guided her to sit between his knees, looking out to the camp. Over her shoulder, arms around her, he showed her the blade and stone which he was using to sharpen, demonstrating an outwards motion then passing it to her, talking quietly in his language.

* * *

The men had grown quiet when Sandaar joined but soon got back into the swing of things and forgot he was even there eventually. Though, there was something obviously troubling him from the tense way he'd sat and leered. "We should move soon," he voiced his concern. It was only a matter of time until he outed himself. Ubbe was laughing at Hvitserk at first, and stopped when he spoke, his laugh filtering out as he looked to the ground and the air turned solemn. "You know we should. The sooner the better. I don't like the open and I rather the shores."

"We move when I say we move." Ubbe tilted his head back slowly and glared at him.

"Your arm is healed enough, no?" It had been three days, _three days_ , and Sandaar's questioning grated on him as he had spent those three days consumed with supplies and making sure their travelling party didn't starve while Sandaar drank and flirted with anything with an ass.

Luckily Hvitserk sensed it and leant back casually, shrugging as he did. "We are good for now, Sandaar. There is no rush."

It seemed to be enough for now but Sandaar tipped back his drink with a permanent frown sketched upon his face. Through the darkness Hendrick appeared and took a seat closer to them than the other men and a few of the shieldmaidens knocking back their drinks just as furiously. It was obvious they had been travelling with Sandaar too long. At least Ubbe could handle his drink as if it was water.

"I've seen the pretty Christian girl. Is she yours?" Sandaar spoke and the camp seemed to grow cricket quiet. Ubbe wiped his mouth, finally meeting his eye, a dangerous look. He kept his cool, he knew Sandaar was looking for a rise out of him. "She has settled in well - flourishing even. Surprised the death of her Holy man didn't scare her off."

"I've claimed her." Try as he might, Ubbe couldn't keep the edge from his voice. "What business is it of yours?"

Hvitserk rolled out his neck next to him.

"It's the only slave we've taken from this land so far. I'm just wondering how dangerous it is. Is she committed to the cause?"

Ubbe chewed his lip. "She is." He wasn't stupid. He was challenging him. He was challenging him in the most primal way - in front of the fittest and fiercest. He was probing for a way in, to get to him, to see a weakness, to see how devoted he was.

"Quite the distraction, huh?"

"This conversation has already ended." Ubbe signalled for his cup to be refilled.

"Maybe we should talk about your preferences?" Hvitserk spoke up, and someone coughed, trying to hold back a bark of laughter.

"Do go on," Sandaar said dangerously. "Give me a good reason to cut out your tongue. Heard you've been running it all over camp with your little jokes and tall tales."

"Ah, the thought scares me, you see. It would only make better room for you to put your dick in it. So I guess I'll back out of this-"

Sandaar stood up, slamming his cup down onto the ground. Everyone around them apart from Ubbe rose too, standing off, and Hendrick grabbed Hvitserk who shifted from foot to foot.

"Go on!" Sandaar gestured with a flick of his wrist at Hvitserk. "I'm unafraid of your dead reputation."

"I hope you do not speak of my family!" Hendrick held Hvitserk back, pushing him away.

" **Enough**!"

It was so loud that every single person surrounding them snapped their head towards Ubbe. He stood up, stepped in front of the fire, the glare bouncing in flames inside his eyes. Very slowly, he put his hands out and warmed them. "Hold your tongue, Sandaar. Hold onto it dearly."

Hvitserk instantly relaxed, the same moment a smirk rose on Hendrick's face.

"One thing I cannot have anymore, is the questioning of my abilities; of what is mine. I think there has already been _far_ too much of that."

"I get my claim when we are finished, from Ivar, not you. As long as this trip doesn't cost me too many months." Sandaar waved a hand dismissively, not sensing the energy in the air. Be it the drink, or he was genuinely an ass.

Ubbe shrugged, hypnotized by the flames. "Do you like my marks?" he asked calmly.

Sandaar scoffed at first, then realised it was a serious question. He rose an eyebrow and sighed simultaneously. "Your scars mark a true warrior." He looked around, trying to get a laugh or an agreement from the crowd but nobody seemed in the least entertained.

"I think this new one will add perfectly to the collection, don't you think?" Ubbe motioned to his arm. "But many from the past signify mistakes…" Ubbe crouched down next to the flames, heating a knife over the logs. "And discipline."

"Yes, we've all heard the stories of your extensive training."

"And you have none. Strange, for such a fearsome leader. Many voyages you have made, and not a scratch - not even a reminder." Ubbe turned, still brandishing the knife. "Just silly poems scribbled in ink."

"I'm smart. It's commendable to come out unscathed. My reminders are placed after."

Hendrick and Hvitserk looked at each other, and when Ubbe stepped forward they grabbed Sandaar, one on each arm. He hit out, but couldn't get leverage against them. Not even his own men stepped up.

"This is a reminder, Sandaar." Ubbe smiled at him maliciously. "That even if it isn't mine, but you think it's mine - it's mine. And you'll keep _your_ tongue… _quiet_."

Sandaar's eyes widened, wildly searching for some form of escape, but nobody was coming to his aid. He had insulted the sons of Ragnar and now the people needed compensation. Gods forbid the word reached Ivar.

The tip of the knife glowed red, and the skin on Sandaar's neck sizzled.

* * *

The small wood nearest the camp was quiet apart from the footsteps of Indra and Avery as they passed through and collected kindling for the fire.

"I like this land a lot. There is no fear of large animals," Indra said, watching Avery bend to pick up a collection of sticks. "Where we are from, you are taught from a young age not to wander far. Otherwise you will be taken."

"Man is the biggest fear here," Avery quoted her father. "My parents used to say that. And they were ultimately right. I believe Man will always be the biggest killers. At least animals have no other intentions."

"You are wrong. We are so alike. They kill for territory and food, like us. Like every man from the past."

"Or woman," Avery added. "But they don't kill for necessity, for jealousy, for silver or gold. And if it is for territory and food, we have stepped into _their_ land. What's scary is that there are stories of villages and rituals of eating others - Man eating Man..."

"When I was little, one was told to scare us while around the fire. A great village was under attack, somewhere south of where we are from. An argument between the two land owners. One rampaged the other, trapped them inside their walls and their only salvation was to eat each other. They only let them out when there was one person left."

"That is such a myth," Avery giggled.

Indra was peering up in thought. "They said his belly was fat."

Avery laughed but covered her mouth. "That is morbid and I shouldn't laugh. It seems too false."

"It probably was, my uncle used to tell it and he smoked strange things that played with his mind." Indra shrugged.

"There is your answer," Avery said with a roll of her eyes.

"I have enough, I'm going back."

"I'm not ready. I'll be there in a moment." She looked to Indra who hesitated for only a second. Her recent episode still hadn't been forgotten. "I hope there is no large animals."

It relaxed Indra enough, and they weren't too far; they could see the camp through the trees. "You hear a growl, you run."

She rolled her eyes, watching her walk back hurriedly, dropping some further out. Avery turned back and went further in. The peace, away from the camp, was few and far between. And out here she could get lost in her thoughts. Oddly, bad thoughts didn't haunt her as much as before. The shadow had lifted, and in its place was a seemingly permanent smile. How could it not be? She was almost certain she may be loved. And there may be a chance _she_ was falling.

A branch snapped behind her that made her spin around. Those stupid stories, they were just playing with her mind. Avery ignored it, moving again. Until another snap had her drop the pile she was holding. "Hello?" She scanned the vicinity. She could still see the camp, she wasn't far.

"Indra, if that's you, I swear-"

"If you hear a growl, run." She heard a male voice say behind her and he spun her. Squeaking in surprise, not fear, when he grabbed her hips, she saw it was Ubbe, and looking incredibly pleased with himself.

"Ooh bear, what are you doing? Were you listening to us?" When he nodded with a laugh, she tapped him on the chest. "Don't do that."

"What?" He smirked widely.

"Don't… creep up on me like that."

"I wasn't creeping. I was riding back through the woods and overheard you." He pulled her until she bumped against his body, hand on her neck, moving to the back of her hair that made her skin prickle. "I'd find you anywhere." And then he kissed her.

As the days had passed, Ubbe had grown hungry for her, and her body reacted in ways she'd never felt. The slightest touch, brush against her skin, especially as they laid together in the night, had her wanting something more. Whether this was his planning, to haunt her with sultry touches and loving words, it didn't matter because it was indeed working. She had to commend his self-control, though.

But hers was a disaster. She felt like a bubble, expanding, waiting for the inevitable. He had a habit of grabbing the neck of her dress and pulling, like any moment he'd rip it, especially while his mouth consumed hers, that left her flushed. Her heart still hammered when he pulled away, guiding her further into the woods until she could finally hear the horse's snorts and thumping against the earth as it waited patiently.

He climbed up effortlessly, then aided her in front of him to ride back to camp. Her pile of kindling was long forgotten, especially when she considered placing both her legs either side of the horse. Did she really dare to use Indra's advice? It didn't take long to decide.

After he whispered in her ear how much he had thought of her the entire day, she gently urged him to claim the skin of her neck, moving her hair to one side.

"What makes you smile, Avery?"

His short beard tickled her shoulder, his mouth never leaving her neck. She wet her lips, throat dry, and sighed, "I smile at silly thoughts."

"Of what?" Ubbe knew 'Of what', she was sure he just wanted to hear it. But it was almost impossible to string a sentence together. He grabbed her face, tilting it towards him and reinforced, "Of _what_?" He must have felt her heat, the way her body thrummed in anticipation.

"You must have been watching me a long time…"

He chuckled at her evasiveness. "I can't help myself. I'm powerless."

"I thought of you." The moment she said it, he claimed her mouth, trailing kisses from her jaw to her neck again, and pulled her back against his body with a firm hand over her ribs, right under her breast.

The conscious mind altered with the sensations, the fear or embarrassment had disappeared as she very slowly rolled her hips, naturally seeking that escape - that same feeling that had become almost unbearable most nights. And she only had to do it once for him to understand, his arms tensing around her while he slid a single hand under the layers of her skirts. He was only touching her thigh at first, massaging the skin, almost forgetting the reigns he held in the other.

Until it wasn't enough any more. She trailed the length of his arm to his wrist, then prompting him to touch her, a hiss of his name fell from her lips. The movement from the saddle and a stroke of his fingertips against her jumping nerves left her breathless. The need to move her hips quicker came naturally, and she gripped his thigh with her other hand. She heard him speak in his tongue against her while she hummed and it comforted her in a way that she lost herself to him. The muscles in her lower belly clenched, and with one hardened swirl, brushed against her clit, the world faltered around her.

They hadn't made it past the treeline but he beckoned her face towards him, swallowing her quiet mewls, a reddened relief painting her cheeks and hazy eyes watching him in her come down.

Ubbe's glazed over eyes were glued to her mouth and chest still heaving. And only now did she notice his hips firmly pressed against her, his breath as heavy as hers. When she smiled at him, he sighed and shifted in the saddle to move her legs to the side. Holding her delicately against him, he allowed her to breathe out the remnants of her need, to hold him as close as she could in this position. And before he set off again, he whispered how beautiful she was, and promised that he would do this again if she so wished.

* * *

"Avery, what are you doing?" Ubbe asked with mirth, laying on his back, just awoken from sleep as she covered them both with the covers while lying next to him.

Her hair flowed over her shoulders as she watched him, laughing to herself while scooting closer. "Can the world not wait for a little while longer?"

Ubbe thought about it then clicked his tongue. "Probably not…"

"But it is warm."

"That it is." He flinched when she touched him at first, over his ribs to his stomach, then relaxed at the delicacy. Breaths passed until he snatched up her hand to kiss her fingertips, her palm. "I must say this now."

As she propped up on her elbow, he scoured the curves of her naked breasts, marvelling at the sudden absence of shame. And at the sight, he mirrored her, just so that he could kiss her, as much as he could for now.

Avery knew what was coming. Tonight they would leave to pillage. Tonight he would leave her behind until it was done. He wouldn't risk her life anymore.

"In battle, nothing is ever sure. If something should happen, see to it that Indra cares for you under Hvitserk, my brother." He swallowed thickly and continued, "If you want to stay after on these lands, or to go with them back to Kattegat, I respect your decision."

"There is nothing for me on either of those lands without you, ooh bear." For once, she admitted the truth she'd kept hidden, not shying away from him. She hadn't known until now how fierce she could love. That it utterly hurt at the prospect of parting, making her feel ever more thankful she didn't leave on that night. "I've discovered something that is far from pain, death, and sadness with you. Even if I should have that treasure only once, it is enough." His thumb wiped a tear she didn't know she'd shed as he cupped her face. "I wish in the past I wasn't so stupid and stubborn to see it."

They both laughed quietly. "You are not stupid, you are cautious. Stubborn as a mare, yes." He nicked her chin and breathed in deeply. "Then if I _do_ return, you will marry me? There is only so many times a man should ask before they start getting insulted."

Avery bit her lip, then nodded. She couldn't stop the blush this time. "Yes."

"Then I shall not fall in battle for sure." When he leant to kiss her, bright light beamed upon them from the entrance of the tent being disturbed. Asger stood there and spoke hurriedly, and Ubbe covered Avery quickly with the furs, springing up from their bed and dressing quickly.

When he took his sword, Avery felt a surge of panic. "What is it?"

"Christians." His coldness reminded her of the first time she spoke with him.

"Then I should come with you." Ubbe looked at her, pausing in his dressing. "I need to see," she enforced.

Considering her words for a moment, he eventually sighed and reluctantly nodded.

* * *

From a distance Avery could just hear what they had to say. The man that fronted a guarded convoy stayed on his horse, looking down upon Ubbe and their party, dressed in expensive clothes with fine detail, rings on every finger, but strangely not armoured.

"I need to speak with the man in charge." The man did not move, his hands overlapped on his saddle, seemingly hardened from the intimidation as the heathen army grew to stand before him.

She hadn't thought it before, used to the northmen's army, but looking back across the field, these people looked formidable. They had left their mark with a grand fire, the earth worn, only from a few days. Clinking from a smith echoed, the only sound as the wind blew, and the crowd grew wielding their weapons, or ready to arm themselves if need be.

"You can speak with us," said Hendrick. Ubbe stood statue still, staring at them, and she knew from the look that he was calculating. From her side, Indra appeared and kept her in silent company behind the cart where she hid. "There is no need for a translator." Hendrick gestured around him, and a few chuckled. "You can speak freely."

"So be it. I am Earl Edwin. I am in alliance with York. My word stretches as far as Tweed and as South as Auckland."

"Where?" Someone in the crowd shouted and gained more laughs.

Earl Edwin didn't even flinch. "You are not welcome here. Your dishonour and tricks will not work on Keep Wark. If I was you, I would pass by. In fact, I would head back for your ships… If they are still there." His tone didn't change. It almost sounded bored, recluse, removed from the situation. "However, just from the look of you I see that it isn't a possibility. I'm not blind to your scouts to Wark."

"We have enough honour to not claim your life right now," Hendrick replied, then looked to Ubbe, for Earl Edwin's attention remained on him. A silent conversation passed between them. The Earl twitched his reigns and concentrated solely on Ubbe. "Why do you look to him?"

"Because he is the one in charge," the Earl said simply.

Avery concluded the Earl was smarter than he seemed. He then flicked his wrist and from behind them a cart was pulled forward. The men jumped down and untied the horses from it, leaving it standing between them.

"This is an offer. An army needs to be fed and a truce needs to be met. I'm also not blind to your numbers, but from your scouts I know you are unknowing of mine. Let's not waste any more time. North-West, there is an undefended Keep. They rest because they believe the raids will pass through us first. I will not hinder your path if you don't step a foot in mine."

Ubbe scratched his beard and stepped forward. "We are not interested in English rival disputes."

"I will ignore your presence and not send word of your exact location."

"That doesn't bother me."

"Take the offering, make a decision before tonight." Earl Edwin twirled his horse around. "I beg you not to approach the Keep because I will know what choice you have made. And may God bless you if it should be the right one." The long flow of his cape fluttered as the horses gained speed up to a canter, disappearing further up into the treeline.

Hvitserk turned to Ubbe. "I only got half of that."

"There are two Keeps near. The one we targeted for tonight wants us to take another in exchange for silence and safety." Ubbe crossed his arms, still staring out after them.

"So?"

"They watch us even now. And I don't trust him." Ubbe tipped his head and spoke to himself under his breath, "How did he know an attack was imminent?"

"I say we stick with the plan," Hendrick interrupted, flexing his shoulders and ready. "Not listen to their lies and fake God."

"No," Ubbe hushed him, rubbing his chin as the thought struck him. "We are going to take them both. Despair gives courage to a coward. And cowards are the most dangerous." He pointed to some people standing idly to the side. "Take the cart inside the camp, then burn it. All that food is laced with death."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much! Enjoy!

The Dog - Chapter 11

For a long while, Avery had peered out across the land, waiting silently, beginning to see the curl of her breath as the temperature dropped rapidly and darkness began to shroud them. She pulled the furs further across her shoulders, not giving in to the thought of defeatism.

Ubbe had told her that he was riding out to Wark to speak with the Earl. He was going to tell him that his battle plans were changing, feeding him lies of their small army marching past both Keeps, not coming into contact with either. They would merely just rest a few more days. Whether it was the truth or not, Avery didn't know or care. But she would wait until Ubbe got back.

"My lady, please, it's cold," she heard Indra say from behind her as she came out to sit with her. She'd said the same thing over an hour ago.

"It's fine. You may go if you want. But I will stay here."

Neither of the women moved. Not until something grabbed Avery's attention, small dots far in the distance growing larger. It would be Ubbe, his brother, Hendrick and a few others. Indra snapped up before Avery, for she had two lovers on the field - whether she wanted to admit that or not.

Tiredly, Avery stood too, still clutching the furs. "Is it them? It's them, isn't it?" Her voice bled desperation and worry, and it was time for Indra to ignore her. The camp had swelled to life, obviously, whoever on guard had spotted them and now came thundering back and alerting those left in charge.

As they raced up, Hendrick immediately dropped down into the field, handing over the reigns of his horse, his eyes searching. In another life, he would have raced to Indra. And to Avery's surprise, a sadness seemed to radiate from Indra when she spotted him.

But her own body felt urgent, despairing almost. The crowd fluctuated, trying to get the news, cutting her off from getting to Ubbe so easily. She had a hand up in the air, calling his name with her silly translation, "Ooh bear!" But Avery's voice was nothing compared to the congregating Vikings around her. So with reluctance, she waited, letting him debrief those smothering him.

"From the looks of it, the plan has worked," Indra noted distantly, leaning up on her tiptoes, still watching. Avery's worry had been the threat of anyone approaching the Christian Keep, that they may have found reason to attack rather than talk. "Ubbe was right about those cowards." She took a sharp intake of breath. "Forgive me."

"I'm not offended." She couldn't be, not when Ubbe scoured the crowd and landed on her, his white teeth visible from a distance. He waved the others off, pushing through and leaving Hvitserk with them. And when he got to her, he paused, a bashful sway to her posture before he reached out and pulled her closer. Indra slipped away.

* * *

Avery had only just fallen back upon the furs when Ubbe graciously tumbled after her. Due to the impending battle, there was a sense of urgency to his meanderings. Her mouth, her neck, her chest being lavished at any given opportunity. While she was bare, he remained clothed, but jutting his hips into hers, pushing hard into her crotch, so she could feel his need without a doubt. It gave her an idea of what he would be like as a lover. And it was overwhelming.

"Ooh bear," she panted, using both hands on either side of his face to get his attention. And it was all he needed to slow himself, propping himself up to look down at her. He appraised her slowly, drinking her body in before slipping down and taking her nipple into his mouth. She cradled him there, until he went further to her ribs and then to her lower belly.

"Like your silly stories, I'm going to eat you now," he growled.

Avery struggled to get up to her elbows, seeing him squatting between her legs. "What?" She smiled nervously, breath still stolen.

"Watch," he replied, licking his lips.

Ubbe rubbed his thumb once over her clit, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. She snapped her eyes open to watch him kiss his way down her inner thigh. And when he finally reached her core, enveloping her with his mouth, tongue flat against her, she pathetically withered back against the furs, unable to control the sounds that filtered through her lips.

Heat rose in her cheeks, his unrelenting care alternating between fast and then slow, making her hips twitch. But the distance between them was too much. Her hand flailed for him, and he choked back a laugh, reaching up to calm her, interlocking his fingers against hers.

Her legs began to shake uncontrollably, and he moved up until they could rest on his shoulders, which only eased it slightly.

"You taste as beautiful as you look," he mumbled, watching her body writhe and heave with each shaking breath.

"Mm-hmm… Don't stop." He chuckled at her desperation as she begged for him to not to stop over and over. With her eyes shut tightly she tried to reach him with her other hand. And when her fingers curled into his short hair, he greedily complied, not minding her nails digging into his hand as she felt herself being perfectly pushed to a physical limit, then bursting into a million melting pieces.

Ubbe crawled back to her side, very pleased with himself. "I think you just woke the whole camp." But she was still lost, beautifully lost. "Are you okay?"

"I think I saw Heaven," she sighed dreamily.

Ubbe tried very hard not to laugh but couldn't help himself. "If that is Heaven then why don't we go sooner rather than later?"

"Maybe that is pleasure then. Maybe comfort, love… I don't know. I find I don't care either way. Not right now." Rolling onto her side, she felt the need to sleep wash over her.

Sitting up, Ubbe discarded his tunic, unbuckling his pants and slipped them off without falter, then covered them both in the furs.

"This is only the beginning," he sighed, curling up behind her. "Soon I will make full love to you, and every passing moment until you are with child, and every moment thereafter." Ubbe looked at her over her shoulder but she was peacefully asleep already.

* * *

"Why won't you speak with me?" demanded Hvitserk. Indra turned away from the entrance to the tent and went further inside. "Have I done wrong? Have I hurt you somehow?"

"Hvitserk, please. I told you before, it was too serious. I didn't want anything serious and then you spoke of  _marriage_ ," she said incredulously, pacing as much she could in the small space. "You know that you and the word marriage don't go hand in hand."

"What does that mean!"

"Please stop this. Please just leave." Her voice shook and she still couldn't face him. "Leave me alone."

"Is there another?" He put his hands to his hips and looked to the ground, stepping forward when she didn't reply. "Is. There. Another? Because I swear to the Gods, if there is, blood will be shed!"

"There is nobody. I want nobody else!" He stepped toward her and she swung at him, missing and falling into his arms. Memories surrounded them, the short, sweet days they had spent together, loving so much in such a short amount of time.

Between her tears, she turned and kissed him, stumbling across the room.

* * *

"Will you be gone long?" Avery's voice was intentionally quiet, so no one else could hear. Ubbe wore his helm, fully armoured, looking much taller than usual as he stood ferociously in front of her. The army waited to divide beyond the trees, splitting to hit both Keeps. Homecamp was moving itself too as soon as they would set off, for safety.

"Will you miss me?" His touch was gentle against her cheek regardless of how he looked. "What did I do to deserve to come across you in this life? How were you chosen to live - for me to see you?"

"I stabbed Hendrick." She smiled. "Life is strange." He stood in silence, studying her face still and her cheeks began to warm. "What...? What are you looking at?"

"I'm drawing you into my mind so that I have it with me. I believe Freya watches me on this day. I see her through your eyes."

Avery became bashful and blinked away. "Stop it."

"Is it not normal to express what I'm thinking? You don't like to hear compliments or how I appreciate you?"

"I'm still getting used to it." She crossed her arms, tightly smiling. She wasn't used to the attention, nor revealing herself to anyone. And he knew her better than anyone now. "Ooh bear, be patient with me. And… and come back."

"Are you ordering me?" His smile beamed.

"That is an order." He stroked her cheek with his thumb, nicked her chin, then turned towards his waiting raiders.

She watched them leave, like a parallel of the previous night. "My lady," Indra whispered behind her. "We will be moving shortly, you must prepare."

"I'm ready."

* * *

As the light died, Ubbe marched upon Wark, while Hendrick took the Keep in the North-West. They met with their scouts at the wall, hoisting scaling ladders against the downpour of arrows almost knocking Hvitserk from his climb. When Ubbe turned to check on him, he was laughing wildly, climbing quicker.

Ubbe pulled himself over the lip of the outer wall, upon the stand where the churchmen stood guard, noticing only a small number of soldiers. He pushed the thought from mind, using his axe to maim a man almost upon him.

Quickly he moved to open the gates, a zig-zag stair descent. Hvitserk was with him, having his back until more of the northmen joined them as most waited to be let in. They pulled the lumbering wood from the door, and Ubbe heaved them open, calling for this battle to be fast and favoured by the Gods.

* * *

The tents they had strung up were not as big as usual because they were not going to be staying very long. They would move to the Keeps after they were conquered and reside there until the next. Indra stayed with Avery, huddled together for warmth, fearing what was happening to their men.

Their conversation had changed several times, and there was no chance of sleep. It got so bad they fell silent and Avery hugged her knees, listening to Indra hum. After a while, she turned her head, still resting on her arms, just enough to see Indra on her back and looking up to the top of the tent. "I don't think we will sleep at all tonight."

"The battles make me afraid. Whatever outcome comes from them, changes our plans each time…" She furrowed her brows, lost in thought. "And we lose people sometimes."

For some reason, Avery thought of Benedict, the closest person she had had left from her old life. The last time she had seen him, he was half eaten by crows and still strung up. She pressed her hands together and silently prayed.

Indra glanced to her. "I do not doubt them. But the Gods are unpredictable, and so are people."

"I wish I was smarter," Avery blurted, causing Indra to sit up on her elbows. "All these Earls I could have learnt of, all the layouts of the land. Instead I know nothing. Instead I kept away from them as much as possible because I feared for my life... After what happened at Benedict's Keep, I suddenly snapped and was no longer fearful. I had a purpose and it was those children. They were my only vision." She paused with a sigh. "I told them they were in there but they ignored me. Though, now I know ooh bear understood exactly what I was saying."

"The Christians don't care for us. We don't care for them. He didn't know anything about you and for all he knew it was a ploy - a distraction."

"They kill innocent children. I'm still learning how I can live with the knowledge."

Indra bit her cheek. "They don't  _want_  to. They  _have_  to. There is a difference. And I wish you would stop talking about us like that. You may forget but I am a Viking too."

"Would you kill children?"

"Not by my hand but I would leave them to their fate," Indra said sternly. "Don't judge me, Avery."

"I'm not."

"You know nothing of the land, aside from what happened to your village and Benedict. You walked alone for a while but fell into luck, then luck again with us."

"I shall say no more." Avery scoffed in disbelief, turning onto her side to lay down, away from her.

"Forgive me. Everything is perspective," Indra said as Avery stared at the skin of the tent. "I'm not feeling all too well, I'm sorry." A shadow moved from outside, forcing Avery to quirk up. "It was not my intention to be offensive…" While Indra spouted her long list of apologies, Avery scrambled across to their single candle and blew it out, moving to Indra who'd already clocked on. With both their eyes wide, watching the entrance, Indra pulled a small blade from her ankle.

"Give me that, quick," Avery held her hand out, went to the side and slit the skin enough to see out. She watched as shadowy figures crept across the land - a lot of them. They didn't speak a word, only signals. Avery almost gasped in shock as a man walked directly in front of her hand-made eye hole, his hands covered in blood. She guessed it was from the guards watching over the camp Ubbe had left behind.

She turned to Indra, considerably paled and grimaced. "Churchmen."

It only made Indra fiercer, her features scrunching up viciously as she got in front of Avery and took the knife. "They won't take us." Avery didn't want to know exactly what she meant, and didn't ask. "I will do us both if I need to," she whispered.

Someone must have woke and spotted the invaders. A roar went up and the rush of noise erupted around them. Avery put a hand on Indra's shoulder.

* * *

" _Where_  is he!?" Ubbe shouted across the courtyard. Many had stopped, wiping their dirtied faces while Hvitserk stood close, spitting onto the land. Ubbe took off his helm, peered quickly around. "Where is the Earl and where is his men?!" Nobody answered. He strode past Hvitserk, landed a heavy hand on the shoulder of one of his men and whispered, "Go to Hendrick and get word." The man nodded once and raced off for a horse.

"What shall we do?" Hvitserk said.

Ubbe was frowning. "Something's wrong… We've missed something. They have averted us." A surge of anxiety swirled in his gut. "We need to head back. We need to go. We need to go now!"

* * *

Thick gloved fingers slipped over the edge of the entrance, peeling it back slowly. Indra made a feral sound in her throat, pushing Avery back, guarding in front of her.

The churchman must have suspected they were asleep or the tent empty, only to be caught with the sight of them huddled together, a glint in his eye.

"Get back!" Indra warned him, waving her small blade.

He merely whistled, another face emerging after a few short seconds, and they grunted a laugh between them. He almost knocked the stakes from the ground with his shoulders as he busted his way inside. That's when Indra launched herself at him in such a way, which Avery could only describe as cat like; her feet planted firmly on the ground in a wary crouch, and then jumping towards him effortlessly.

Outside rang the calls of death, and suddenly, the fear of the past cast over Avery, the fire she saw in her mind's eye, the cries, freezing her on the spot. Wherever she went there was death, continuously affecting the ones she loved. When she thought she couldn't breathe from fright no more, Indra was caught in one hand around her throat like it was child's play, and Avery went after her with a new cause.

She grabbed Indra, trying to pull her back. The other soldier barged forward and lifted her completely off the ground, flinged her to the other side of the tent. Indra swung her knife in a flimsy hand, nicking his cheek and finally freed herself. However, between the man's arms she could only watch as the churchmen pinned Indra by her hair in sheer spite and rained down blow after savage blow onto the small woman.

Unable to bear Indra's screams anymore, she thought quickly and yelled, "I'm from Benedict's Keep! Stop! What are you doing!" She felt the heat and pain, tasted the blood before realising she'd been slapped and bit her cheek in the process.

A fierce yell from outside remenated until Asger burst into the tent and tackled the churchmen who held Avery, sending them to the floor. Dazed, Avery stumbled up, crawling towards Indra, seeing the knife on the ground. She wasn't going to hide anymore. She couldn't.

She wasn't anything like a trained man, nor someone who had attacked in such a way before, but she jumped onto the churchman's back before he could straighten. Indra lifted her head and stuck a leg out regardless of the pain radiating throughout her face, and he tripped, both women using their weight on his arms as he thrashed helplessly on his back. Avery held up the knife, but Indra took it from her, panting, and slit his throat while screeching in triumph. When she fell back, Avery went and scooped her up, looking to Asger still struggling. He shouted something thickly towards them, and Indra tugged her in urgency. "He says 'run'."

Both of her eyes were almost swollen shut and Avery didn't even know if she was focussed on her as her eyes rolled. She was bleeding from multiple places, staining the cloth they wore. And for a moment Avery disassociated, turning her hands over to look at the blood on them.

"Avery!"

"Yes, I heard… Let's get you up. Come on…" She began pulling Indra, got an arm over her shoulder, stumbling out of the tent while Indra held her ribs and whimpered with every step.

It was like walking out into Hell itself. Man against man, a horse running straight through the middle of the temporary camp, carts on fire. She saw it for what it was. That they were no different. There was no such thing as negotiating, surrender, or peace. Both sides, with a plan or idea in mind were demons on either side of the ocean. It was a reverse image of her village, though this time she sat on the side of the Vikings.

"We have to hide…" Indra wheezed.

"Yes, but where?" Avery frantically looked around, the treeline wasn't far but wandering out towards it could make them a target. There was nothing else to try. A howl came from the tent behind them, something smashing as Asger battled inside, and Avery took off towards the trees.

Every step was effort with Indra hanging off her, their pace too slow for the urgency inside her chest. She almost dropped her multiple times. "Come on, Indra! We are almost there!" Their skirts caught their legs and tripped them up, crashing into the dirt. "Indra!"

"Just go, Avery!"

"I'm not leaving you." With new strength, Avery managed to get them to their feet, turning towards the woods.

Hitting the treeline safely was beyond relief.

* * *

How long they had walked - or more stumbled through the woods, she didn't know. They could have even gone in circles, and Indra was near collapse. All that she knew was that it was dawn, morning burning through the tops of the trees. It could have been even later than she thought as the darkness was obscured through the overhang above their heads, the forest cloaking them from time.

It was also quiet. Too quiet.

Indra gave out suddenly and tumbled to the ground, eyes closed, and Avery joined her. They laid in silence, just breathing, looking up to the trees, covered in dirt and blood while sharp stones and branches stuck into their backs.

Avery found she was trembling when she sat up. "Indra, we have to find somewhere to rest…" With no reply, she checked Indra, to find she had passed out, exhausted, and probably in a lot of pain. It was cold too, making her hands feel raw and feet numb. "Indra, wake up." Avery shook her, only for her to groan in response. "Indra, please! Please! Don't leave me…" she trailed off, looking out to a wooded wilderness where everything looked the same. A weird call from an animal pricked her ears, the howl of the wind filling her with horror. "Indra!" She shook her more violently, to receive nothing this time.

In fright she scrambled away from Indra on her hands and knees. A realisation - a probing, dreaded thought washed over that perhaps Indra was dying and she could do nothing about it. Perhaps she would get lost and end up dying from the cold or fright herself. Touching her face, she only just now became aware of the sting on her cheek. It burned and felt wet, but she was unable to see what real damage the churchmen had done.

Her thoughts went to Asger and she wondered whether he had gotten away. But did any of it matter if the both of them now died in this wood? At least Indra knew some hunting skills whereas she did not. If she started a fire, would someone she didn't want see the smoke? Could she even start a fire? She needed the right tools, something to spark, rocks, twirling dry sticks against each other. But in the morning dew how would that be possible?

Her mind raced with every thought possible. Figuring that they were going to die anyway.

So, this time she wouldn't run. She wouldn't leave Indra. She'd learnt from her mistakes.

Avery crawled back over to Indra until she could snuggle up to her and push her chest to her back, hugging her as close as possible.

* * *

Through bad dreams and terrors, Avery had dreamt of some strange things. At one point she'd floated up through the trees, lightweight like a breeze and could see the two of them huddled together, cocooned, like potential butterflies.

Avery began to giggle. The only sound in the vast darkness that surrounded them. She wondered if she'd be a blood red butterfly between the cream coloured rags of her dress. If she'd have torn or long floaty wings. Lifting a hand up to the sky, she opened and clasped it, pretending she was flying up and away.

"My wings are broken…" she heard herself say.

She laughed harder, snorting and coughing at the morbid thought. "I'd be a butterfly with broken wings! Indra, what type would you be?" Of course, Indra didn't reply and hadn't for a while. "I'll choose for you. I think yellow… with green flecks, possibly owl like eyes on each wing. You could fly me around because mine are broken…" She dwelled on that thought a long moment. "I know you would. We could fly together-"

"Avery…" a voice drifted into her thoughts.

"But you would be a bigger butterfly…" she trailed off, unable to connect the voice to a person.

"Are you hurt?" She felt warm hands against her ice cold skin and only now did she notice that her eyes hadn't even been open. "Avery?"

Ubbe had heard her laugh while scouring the forest, an off-chance as he'd already walked through most of this side of the wood. And now that he had finally found her, he worried for her sanity, she didn't make any sense at all. She blinked her eyes open but didn't even see him, and was floppy when he pulled her from Indra. The two women had been out for over a day.

He grabbed her face to steady her. "Avery, look at me!" His voice was tight, laced with panic. He hadn't rested since the battle, since he returned to the camp, since Hendrick had come back with news of lies the Earl had spread. He owned and ruled both Keeps single handedly, and set up a ploy to split and weaken the northmen. But he had underestimated their strength in such small numbers.

Where the Earl was, was unknown for now. He'd misjudged the courage of those left at homecamp. It was a desperate move made by a desperate man in utter fear.

Ubbe looked up when Hendrick rushed over and clattered to the ground. "Indra... Indra, open your eyes, my sweet girl." He put his ear to her chest, relief washing over his features as he glanced at Ubbe. "She is alive!" And in one strong scoop, picked Indra up from the floor, the woman looking small and feeble against him.

Sighing, he slowly looked down to Avery. This time her eyes were wide with recognition, staring back so deeply, so calmly up at him.

"You would be a blue butterfly."

"What… Wha..." He smiled as he shook his head, cradling her against him. "You want to go home?"

She clung to him rawly. "What?! No! You can't send me back… There is no where… My home is here-"

"With me."

Avery calmed at once. "With you."

* * *

The colour was lost on her face. Shrouded with a hood, Avery kept her head turned to the wind, letting it sting her cheeks, the large bruise having formed over one and a slightly puffy eye while the cart she sat on bumped and groaned over the landscape. Every now and then Asger would catch her eye from next to her and smile as he drove the cart.

They were moving to the Keep, continuing on their journey. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Indra among two others resting behind them. Indra said it hurt when she held her head up; her face and head was severely bruised, including a split lip and a black eye. The other women had used elixirs Avery didn't know of to aid her, helping minutely, looking shiny on the skin. They'd smeared her cheek with the same oily substance too, but she didn't specifically find any relief, and Indra faired worse than her, so she could only imagine the pain.

Trailing behind them was Hendrick, keeping his eyes solely on Indra. And behind him rode Hvitserk, drinking from a skin.

Ubbe trotted back down the line on his horse, and Avery moved the material of the hood to cover her face. "How are you feeling?"

Avery was aching from every muscle, with barely the energy to keep her spine straight. "I'm fine."

"You don't have to lie."

"Sore," she settled for. "I've had worse though."

He didn't speak for a long moment. "I don't doubt it." Then he breathed in and out like he was about to say something but didn't know how to word it. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"I'm getting used to fearing for my life that now it isn't even fear…" she spoke quietly. "It will never end so why fear it?"

"This was the last thing I wanted to happen. I didn't know-"

"It's not your fault, ooh bear," Avery interrupted him. "It was a good plan. It ended well regardless of what we were confronted with-"

"We?" he questioned, his turn to interrupt her.

Avery kept the material drawn over her face as she looked to him. He seemed more handsome than before; strong, alert, even through the expression of concern. "I don't see my  _home_  as a land anymore, but as the people around me. Wherever I've been it's always been the people. The land is immortal but the people are not. It will thrive far beyond us. It should be the people around that we love that we should hold close. Without them, what is there?"

"Darkness," he said, frowning. "A lot of darkness." He rubbed a thumb over his lower lip and exhaled. "Avery, I must tell you of what happened in my past so you can put your own judgment on me. So that you know what you are getting into." She shook her head to refuse. "Avery, it wasn't an option." His voice changed; deeper, one of authority.

"I want you to know that I knew my last wife would be killed and I did nothing to stop it," he blurted. "I didn't want to stop it because she went behind my back, many a time. I also fancied another that I shouldn't who brought me much trouble."

Avery was speechless, trying to process the new information.

"I haven't found an easy way to tell you, so this is me trying…" he said with an air of aggravation.

"It's fine. Then please tell me what I need to know," she said calmly. "Because you don't seem to be that man anymore. So tell me... Tell me what I  _need_  to know."

The earnesty in her voice stumped him a little, so he managed to find a place to start. "My brother Ivar punished me for not taking his side. Every night I dreamt of carving my name into conquering lands, that my own ambitions or wants did not control me, to find a seat back at my brothers table as family. It only took me the days to ride with you alone to know that I am not that type of man either. I was not the old me, nor the new one they'd created or viewed me as. And I don't want to be either of them. It does not make me happy. But you..." He then struggled, taking another deep breath.

"...I don't want anything from you."

"No."

"That is all there is to know." She still hid her face, an idea forming, though she tried to fight it. "When I lie with you will you still want me after? When I'm no longer young, when I'm old and tired. Will the longing for battle when you're finished change you? Will you take another - become bored with me?"

"Avery, I am not that kind of man." He rubbed the back of his neck quickly. "Though I can only offer you words, not actions of proof. But that is not me."

"No," she said, almost mimicking him from earlier. "Then there is nothing you need to tell me."

"When did you become so wise?" He tilted his head at her, smiling enticingly in that certain way that she had to look away, because it made her forget about her God, even if only momentarily.

He reached out to her hand in her lap. "And don't ever hide your face from me."

Hesitantly, she let the hood drop, revealing the discolouration, the redness under her eye. When she looked at him, she could see that he was trying to hide his worry behind an encouraging smile.

As if to ensure her that she was safe now, he tugged at her hand. "Do you want to ride with me, stulka?"

The words she wanted to say in reply were too suggestive, too unordinary for her. But one thing she'd realised was that life was unpredictable, and she didn't know how long she'd be granted to stay. So, already full with regrets, the last thing she wanted was adding yet another. "I want to lie with you, ooh bear."


	12. Chapter 12

The Dog Chapter 12

At the Keep the days turned to weeks as they waited for word and sent out search parties for the Earl. Indra grew well and the northmen farmed the discarded crops of late winter vegetables. It almost felt like a reverie that they would be staying in a place such as they were for long. The Keep had been kept beautifully, the flowers had sprung and the courtyard bloomed with them even if a little wild and unkempt since their arrival.

And yet, Avery grew increasingly restless. Whether it was imagination or not, Ubbe had taken to teasing her. She'd uselessly tried to initiate his affection in the evenings only to be left to suffer. Maybe he was getting her back for all the times she refused him. Whatever it was, she couldn't work it out. But it didn't mean all of her attempts were a failure, and she knew it wouldn't take him too long to crack.

She'd been down in the kitchens, practising languages with Indra who was never too far, trying to help as much as she could - though she failed terribly at being domestic - when they'd requested Ubbe's presence. Avery said she would fetch him, knew he'd said something about resting in one of the many rooms. She'd raced up the twirling staircase, panting and out of breath, opening the door to the room they were staying in to find him in a bathing tub with a drink in hand.

"Ooh bear, they are asking for you…" she started, but he had his head tilted back, eyes closed, then took a sip of his drink calmly.

"They can all wait." When he moved the water sloshed, and he took another drink before putting it down beside him. "Join me, stulka."

"There's hardly room."

"There is enough room if you take your clothes off." He chanced a look as she stepped further inside and shut the door. "You seem mighty serious?"

Avery huffed and sat down beside him. "I'm frustrated-"

"Oh?"

"-because I'm not good at anything. I can't learn languages. It goes in one ear and straight out of the other. And when I get it completely wrong, Indra taps me on the arm. She knows I'm no good." Ubbe only smiled silently. "I'm useless in a kitchen. I had one job-"

"Which was?"

Avery frowned, pouting a little. "Stirring. But Indra was distracting me..."

Ubbe breathed in sharply as not to laugh. "It will come in time. But for now, there is warm water and a lap."

Avery's eyes darted towards the brim of the tub. In all the times he'd comforted her, never once did he ask anything in return. She'd stolen glimpses of him; _all_ of him, as much as she'd dared to. "I've bathed already."

"Why are you so full of excuses? Is it because you fit too perfectly against me?" She smiled a little, a betraying one which he caught immediately. "Or do I need to order you?" Licking his lips, his thoughts were plainly written on his face.

"I don't take orders."

"I am aware." He took another drink, draining it, this time the decanter bouncing across the floor as he discarded it. " _Please_ take your clothes off and join me. _Now_."

Her hands shook when she pulled at the laces, kicking off her shoes to the side. She gently tugged the dress halfway up her body when he spoke again, "Stand a little to the right, by the candle. It glows on your hips." With the dress gone, she complied, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Turn around. Slowly."

The light from the candle wasn't the only thing burning and imprinting her skin, but his gaze too. Even if she couldn't see him while she turned, she could sense it. Every glorious moment. She broke the unsaid rule and looked over her shoulder, suddenly stirred by the ends of her hair tickling her back. She felt voluptuous, wanted, powerful. That prompted her towards him.

Watching her beneath half hooded eyes, Ubbe's chest rose and fell quicker as she quaintly stepped into the tub. Reveling in the warmth, she sunk down, resting her knees comfortably either side of him. Being cradled by his body and position, she freely scoured his body and chest, tracing every muscle and scar as she went until he could no longer wait to taste her.

At the same time their lips met, he languidly rolled his hips up, finally meeting for the first time. But yet, he did not go any further. "This was a mistake…" he said, and Avery felt the pangs of rejection begin to prickle. "I can't control myself."

"Then don't."

"Avery, you're not thinking clearly." He pushed her hair back away from her face, letting the water trickle down her cheek.

"I am. I want to do what you do to me, to you. I want you to see stars. I want to hear you, feel you. I want to."

"Just wait a little longer," he said firmly, her expression dropping to disappointment. "There are other things you can do for me." He took one of her hands underneath the water until she brushed against him.

Sheepishly, she gripped a hold, following his prompt to slowly cater up and down his length. As she worked, he reached out and touched her breasts, his other hand gripping the side of the tub. He swore provocatively in his language, keeping her eyes, their lips brushing together. The room became a mix of steam and sweat, glistening on their faces, chests. A slosh from the water every now and again as she drew out his pleasure and impending release for the first time.

* * *

Indra had left the kitchens to find out what happened to Avery, as they still asked continuously for Ubbe. Though, she had assured them Avery was searching for him.

She was as quiet as a mouse, taking extra care her shoes didn't scratch the stone, that her dress didn't catch on the walls, nor that her breath mimicked a worked dog.

She had small marks mainly around her forehead from her healing that still itched every now and again, illuminated from the keyhole on the door she bent down to spy.

There in the middle of the room was the tub, where she could see the back of Ubbe's head, and Avery so clear to see straddling him. They weren't saying much, but it was evident what they were doing. Indra stood up, now breathless and put her back to the wall. Should she interrupt? Should she walk away?

Indra had always been into voyeurism, so she lowered herself for one more peek - so she told herself - and then clarified with her inner battles that she must carry on with her duties. Her glacier blue eyes were tainted with the glow and scene carrying on in the room in front of her.

"What are you doing?"

Indra stumbled back in shock, then frowned at Hendrick. "Be quiet, will you," she hissed.

He smirked, leant up against the stone wall in a cocky way. He pushed off, still watching her as she scowled angrily until he could take a look for himself. "Maybe you should knock and ask to join?" Thankfully, he kept his voice barely a whisper. He went to steal another look when she grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away.

When he straightened, just from her touch, his whole demeanour changed. There they stood, in the darkness of a Keep, in it's narrow halls, face to face when usually Hendrick fought to gain her attention. "I think of you every night."

"Stop," she snapped, turning and making her get away. She didn't manage to get far, just to the winding staircase but far enough not to be heard. For a big guy, Hendrick could move without a sound. He stopped her midstep and kept her against the wall so she couldn't run away. "This is _absolutely_ insane." Indra threw her hands to her head, gripping the side of her braid in frustration.

"I know I'm not good at this love shit. I'm not going to give you pretty words. I am a monster. A horrible, disgusting monster. I know that. You are everything bright, light, and clear. I dream of the way your dress fits loosely against your collarbone, the way your hair falls, your eyes, every night." He exhaled agitatedly. "I know Hvitserk can not stand a chance with a woman like you. It's all show and front with him. He won't satisfy you… But I will! I won't overrule you if you want to bed another woman, another man. But I wish you do not speak of love with them either. And that I can be the one that you choose to come and speak to… about anything." He paused, hoping it was enough, because for a long moment she stared at him unreadably. There was no expression, no process.

Her fist connected with his nose. And with a rabid energy, she pushed him until he tumbled against the wall. "You should have thought about that before you decided to rape me. You are scum. I cannot love you. Ever. So _stop_ following me!"

Blood dripped from Hendrick's nose, and he allowed her to take the rest of the stairs. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sounded nasally as he called, "You'll be back, Indra. You always are!"

* * *

Indra accompanied Avery on a walk around the grounds. The sky was growing angry overhead. It wouldn't be long until the heavens opened. But yet, they walked slowly, and stopped for Avery to pick flowers.

Days had passed without anything seeming to change. And at the edge of Avery's thoughts, was when Ubbe was going to finally marry her. Like some lovestruck girl, it's all she began to think about. And the more she did, the more she settled on the fact that she didn't want anything lavish, just the words and the connection.

"When do you think we'll leave?" she asked, and then looked back when Indra didn't reply. She was met with Indra twisting her hands together anxiously, staring out across the messy courtyard brimming with people coming to and fro. Eventually she caught on and almost jumped to life.

"Oh, erm, I haven't heard. I hear what you do. I'm with you mostly." When her chin tucked towards her chest, Avery couldn't help herself.

"Is something wrong? You seem far away."

"No, I'm fine," she said quickly.

"Indra, it's okay. You can tell me. I have no one to tell anyway."

Indra peered around, then stepped closer. "I think my elixir failed." It was obvious by Avery's expression she didn't understand. "I have missed a bleeding."

Avery's eyes dropped to her friends stomach. "Oh."

Tears welled in Indra's eyes. "I've been given a solution from one of the women but I have not taken it yet." Where Indra had been twisting her fingers together, there were red marks and scratches. She'd been thinking this over for days already and Avery simply hadn't caught on. "I am a thrall to the people. I am to take care of you. And that is not possible with a child. But..." She was shaking, and Avery laid a hand on her arm soothingly. "But I don't know if I should because I don't know who the father is."

"The last thing you should be doing is worrying about me," Avery said softly, then smiled at her. "Tell me what you want to do and we'll do it."

"I could be wrong. There is a possibility I am wrong. Since the attack I haven't had my full strength. But I don't know how much longer to wait." Indra took a deep breath. "I want to stay with you, Avery. I do not wish for a child. But if it is Hvitserk's and I knowingly banish the child, then he has every right to punish me for it or deny me and leave me with the child uncared for. You have to understand that it is wrong to banish a prince's child. But I think it is not Hvitserk's. In fact, I know it. Deep down, I know it is not Hvitserk's. If he finds out-"

"Let's not panic…" Avery said softly, though inside she was fitful. "You said you could also be wrong."

"Either way, I'd rather not risk it. I'm sorry to encumber you. This was not my intention. I am just cowardly."

"You are anything but. Let's wait a few more days, maybe you are wrong. After, we will get this sorted out if we need to."

Indra wiped her tears. "You are a good friend."

* * *

Avery woke on a day that already felt altered. Ubbe wasn't next to her, her fingers only feeling the plush furs and coldness when she searched. The storms that seemed to drag had passed to a glorious full spring. There was a breeze filtering through the room. And most bizarrely, it was the giggles from outside her very door that withered her last morsel of a sleeping head and ignited her awake.

Flattening her hair quickly, she let her legs drop from the bed, stretching her back. In her eyeline were flowers on a grand oak cabinet, entwined together, perfect to fit in one hand. Then there were petals scattered throughout the room of the floor.

The door slowly being pushed more open caught her attention, and when she clapped eyes on one of the thralls, five of them filtered in, Indra leading at the rear.

Avery was instantly suspicious. Perhaps she'd forgotten some special day and Ubbe would be annoyed with her. "What is going on?"

"Well…" Indra smiled, a ghost of her former self, and sat on the bed next to her. "... It's been hard trying to keep it from you."

Avery laughed nervously. "What?"

"We have orders. He told us yours was not an order but a request. To meet Ubbe outside the gates of the Keep, on English soil. Not a Keep or a town, just land, because…" she thought for a second. "Excuse me. He said because it was immortal?"

She remembered their conversation instantly. "So?"

"You want to be made a true woman with a husband?"

Avery jumped up from the bed. "Are you serious?! Today? But he didn't say anything..."

"Right now!" Indra giggled. "We needed time. We needed to make a special dress. Arrange the hall for the feast. You know, it's been hard to find a spare moment, for when it is safe. But we have not seen a saxon since we've been here."

In joy, Avery captured Indra's face and kissed her cheek, skipping over to the thralls busying themselves. From the trunk in the room they pulled a cream floor length dress, handmade to the best of their abilities and tools - given their circumstances. It was a mixture of materials, a floating look, parts lace, long sleeved.

"It's beautiful."

"I embroidered the butterfly," Indra said quietly, moving over to show her the smallest of details. "Because you saved me."

"And I would do it again." Avery rested her hand on Indra's.

* * *

There was only a few times Avery's stomach decided to somersault in her lifetime. Usually, it was fear or shock, a happiness on the off-chance. This… this was nerves.

She was led out with her girls who had washed and dressed her back at her room. Luckily, not all of the Vikings found Ubbe's untimely wedding interesting enough - or perhaps weren't ordered to join in. It didn't mean they couldn't stare as she passed through, heading towards the large gates and onto the open land.

But for the simplicity, she was glad. She didn't want to experience something grand, nor had any idea of what Viking weddings were like. In all fairness, she believed she didn't deserve it.

So the quieter the better. At the end of the day, Ubbe's demand on marriage had been more about her religion. Though, Avery seemed not to care for it when with him. But he must have seen the reserve afterwards, that flash of guilt. Complete intercourse was still a mystery however.

Once she had approached, no more than twenty people surrounding them, she took the final steps alone and took Ubbe's waiting hands. Her own shook, only making him grip them tighter. He looked dashing. An embellished green tunic, his leathers freshly oiled. She even noticed the fresh, clean-cut shave each side of his head, perfect braids that led down into his ever-growing ponytail.

"It is just us," he tried to make her envisage. It worked to an extent, but her cheeks still tinged with warmth and her smile was half of its usual. "I like your dress."

Avery scoffed nervously, picking at the skirt. "They tried to make it like a Christian dress. I think they did well."

"And you wear a crown of flowers… It suits you." Ubbe played with her fingers, twirled her around in his usual possessive manner as an older woman adorned in unique robing approached with a smile, dark makeup and paled lips.

The woman stood contently with a bowl of blood, but the two could not see her, for they only saw each other. Then she spoke, thickly tongued in Ubbe's language that could be anything to Avery. Ubbe answered quickly, without hesitation. Indra stepped up to translate the most simplest and easily answered questions. "She's asking if you are sure that you want to marry this man."

"Yes," Avery said as he hitched her closer to him by her hips, his forehead lowering to touch hers while they swayed. "Yes, very much."

Ubbe took a ring out from the bowl of blood offered to him, and slid it enthusiastically on her finger. A cheer went up. He cupped her face, stared into her eyes before kissing her.

The old woman called something which Avery as well as Ubbe weren't even aware of anymore. And Indra bowed her head. "Then it is done. May the Gods watch over you."

* * *

"You've come far, risked everything." Earl Edwin dipped his hands into a serving of chicken, popping the morsel in his mouth. "You're not fearful that we will try and kill you? Because that is still a possibility."

"I've heard rumours-" Sandaar began.

"So, all this way for rumours then? Tell me, how did you find me?"

Sandaar squared his shoulders and motioned to one of his men. He disappeared and came back with a young boy. "Word of mouth. Our current leader fails to retrieve such information from villagers. He is scared of a footprint they would make. Taking the work on his own back himself."

"And who is _he_?"

"Ubbe Ragnarsson."

The Earl smiled. "He sounds like a smart man."

"You have not bothered to reclaim your Keep…" Sandaar's voice rose aggressively. On this, the Earl put out his hand and offered him a seat at the table, much to the chagrin of the people around. Sandaar hesitated, eyeing everyone feraly, before cautiously taking a seat. "Why do you not attack?"

Edwin grunted as he sat up further, adjusting his cloak. "Ah, that is a very political question. Our new apparent King of England," he laughed, a wheezing sound, "thinks he has found a solution. Would you believe it… A compromise. Until it has been justified, we are drifting in a limbo. I could get into a lot of trouble. The King could be seen unfairly or unforgiving if word of my attack to a group of pillaging Vikings, who took _my_ Keep from _me_ , ferried around England on the days of rest. And we all know little birds fly and tattle tales."

"You speak in riddles," Sandaar spat, peering over his shoulder. "The only tales there are to tell would be the rescuing of a beloved neighbouring Keep's woman - a Christian girl. And how you had to defend your honour and your God."

"You know, you most certainly are right." Edwin's grey eyes twinkled, just like his fancy doublets collar peeking out from under his cloak. "What do you want from me? _That is_ why you are here."

"Gold."

"In return you will counterfeit his defence?"

" _My_ men won't raise a sword." Sandaar had no remorse. The red, thick scar on his face, and one on his neck, a prominent reminder. "And don't lie about your abundant treasures. You've stripped that place bare. I know because I have walked every hall."

"My earnings will not be taken by thieves to lead a life of leisure. All my hard work? I don't think so." Edwin took a sip of wine on the table, paused to trace his thoughts. "The girl. They call her the witch of Northumbria. She abandoned her people and God and aided you heathens to ransack a Keep with the rumour of another. Added with finding Benedict Biscop's rotting corpse, it's easier to believe it's true. An Earl simply doesn't just open his gates up for an attack. And that was what was most fascinating - so I hear. The heathens just strolled in without resistance. But… it begs me to question, how will I know if you will keep your word? And what benefits you?"

"You will just have to chance it and find out. For that, I will spare the details of your truly impressive camp here. I can sate my people that the attack was provoked and nothing to do with the new compromise the King is making. All it does is get an annoying dog off my back in the meantime, who shows such dishonour in even commanding an army."

"Sounds fair. But I want the girl alive so I can bring her before the people to serve true punishment." Edwin suddenly laughed, a distant tone to his voice. "Ha! Who knows! Maybe I will gain some recognition from this scandal."

"So, it is done?"

"A done deal."

* * *

Avery was seated upon Ubbe's lap as the drink flowed heavily. The tables were full with meats and various vegetables. He fed her by his own hand, kissed her lips after she'd drunk from her cup. It grew roudier as the night drew on, petals from her crown fluttering down when she moved. She felt the drink in her system, drinking more for her nerves.

Through all the background noise emitting around Avery she thought long and hard on her new duties as a wife - as a Vikings wife, while still being able to a gather a pleasing smile for the crowds and Ubbe when he would look at her. Some of her thoughts were tainted with fear of up and coming tasks. She didn't know much of what to expect, but the rules were uncommonly relaxed to which she believed it would be like to be with a man of christianity and faith towards England. But mostly she thought of how she should act now. She would be a patient and loyal wife. And she was patient, as she knew soon her virginity would be no more, and therefore her ties with her English way of life took root to her new Viking family.

She was still thinking of it when Ubbe tilted his head back to look at her, stopping her from finishing the cup she'd been nursing almost continuously. "Do you want to go to bed?"

That was the moment she had been waiting for. Maybe he could sense it - see the way her hands still shook from time to time and her inconspicuous fidgeting. Her stomach somersaulted again. But strangely, she giggled, igniting his smile. "If you want to sit here and drink all night, we can," he said. "Seems like you're enjoying yourself."

"No, no. Let's go to bed." When she stood, people glanced up from the table and a cheer cried out for the newly married couple. Ubbe waved them off, taking her hand and leading her into the halls, up the winding stairs. Before they got to their room, he picked her up and kicked open the door. He stumbled around tipsily until he reached the bed, Avery landing ungracefully, out of breath.

She didn't have time to think when he pulled her to sit up, yanking at her dress laces, pulling it over her head. "I have wanted this for weeks," his voice sounded huskily, at the same time languidly shrugging off his leather and tunic, kicking his boots off in a rabid desperation. Next was his belt that held up his pants. And when he exposed himself, his cock jumping free, Avery kneeled on the bed to level herself and kiss him.

She still wore the shedding flower crown, but nothing else, gasping with surprise as he urgently put his fingers to her, demanding her legs part wider while on her knees as he slid one, then two thick fingers inside her.

Then Ubbe slowed, looked into her eyes, lazily rocking his hand. "I won't hurt you."

"I know."

"But my intent is to lie with you tonight. Do you deny me?"

"No." She smiled shyly. "I have wanted this for so long."

He crushed his lips to hers, tasting of the ale they had drunk most of the night. Pushing her back and off balance, his weight sending a searing heat through her body as he clambered upon the bed and covered her. His mouth was frantic, needing. His fingers still inside her as he pushed her legs wider with his hips, eventually pulling away his hand as he fumbled between them.

Ubbe hesitated when the head of his cock pushed against her entrance, like he paused to check she was still comfortable. With no sign of resistance, he inched himself inside, piece by piece, sinking into her.

It was the sensation that every other encounter lacked. It caused her breath to hitch, her nails to dig sharply into his sides. To hear him groan, filtered away any other discomfort.

Many stories had been told to her that this was meant to be something a wife had to bear. That the pain had to be silenced. But she felt none but the instinct to pull him closer. Most stories came from women in the midst of betrothal to men they barely knew. This was different. Ubbe consumed her fully, everything about her life changing since she met him, finding her own person hidden beneath her lifelong fear. That thankfulness swelled in her stomach as she accepted him.

Perhaps it _was_ love?

Perhaps it was love when he pulled back and pushed deeper. His hands clumsily pushing her hair away from her face, he shifted into a slow rhythm. She relished the stutter in his breath when he grabbed the furs beside her head into a fist.

Mumbling something in his poetic language, he easily pulled her up with him, until he was seated, her straddling him. He gazed at her appreciatively, wandering up her sides, down her back gently, encouraging as she gingerly rode him. She could move a certain way that pressed her clit _just right_ that she lost herself, melting onto him.

It was so clear that Ubbe had tainted her through his meanderings, as now she knew what pleasing sensation she wished to seek, and she found it and chased it.

"Avery…" Ubbe gritted upon her lips in their hazy lovemaking, channeling restraint. But his voice was nothing compared to the tingle that beckoned below that she knew so well by now. That indescribable building - clashing and wanton - that urged to be broken down. Brittle but at the same time begging to be almighty powerful. It was far from consciousness but natural. Like holding a breath below water and suddenly coming up for air. A rush of relief. A place that took a person away to their own minds in complete harmony.

And this time she took Ubbe with her. Her breath hitched, delicate incomprehensible words escaping her lips, her pace slowing, and Ubbe released his seed. With his hands planted firmly on her hips he kept her down on top of him, rooting himself inside of her with his eyes closed.

Avery put her head to his shoulder, and rolled down to the side with him as they both collapsed in a bliss they could only call theirs.


End file.
